


Forget Me Not

by alnima



Series: Forget Me Not [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Deceit, ETA: PLEASE READ THE NOTES FOR WARNINGS, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Inspired by a Movie, Kid Fic, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, No Bullying despite the description, Revenge, Temporary Amnesia, Warning for Non-Con, Warning for Possible Stockholm Syndrome like elements?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-28 04:03:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 105,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alnima/pseuds/alnima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people have a hard time letting go of high school grudges, and Louis Tomlinson is one of them. So when Louis finds out that the kid who used to bully him, Zayn Malik, has suffered from an accident, he can't help but want to use it to his advantage.</p><p>(Read notes for warnings details)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't know or own anyone. This work is my own and it is not featured on any other site, nor does anyone have my permission to repost it in its entirety. Thank you!!!
> 
> 2017 Warning Update: This fic was inspired by the movie Overboard. If you are familiar with that movie (hopefully the warnings make sense), it follows the basic plot of that, but if you are not familiar, this story will contain elements of non-con. Please proceed with caution if you read this. I have included an in-depth discussion on the non-con and Stockholm syndrome elements which contain spoilers for the story in the end notes if you need more clarification.

The radio is blaring incessantly and Louis lets out a tired groan at the sound disturbing his peaceful slumber. He reaches out blindly and flails his arm around until it makes contact with the button on the alarm. He peeks out from behind the blankets and sees that it’s a quarter to seven in the morning. He shakes his head and drops it back down onto the pillows to try and get a few more precious minutes of sleep. 

He grabs the blankets and tries to pull them up over his head but finds it difficult. He can feel a weight at the end of the bed. He slowly peeks over the blankets and sees all three of his sons lying out on the empty spaces in his mattress. 

Niall is lying at the end of the bed with his head resting against Louis’ cover clad calves. He has one small hand resting on top of Louis’ knees. Then there is Liam who is curled up in a little ball against Louis’ other pillows. He knew that Liam would be in here when he woke up since he hasn’t been feeling well lately. And then there is Harry who is lying out in starfish position right in the middle of the bed with some part of his body touching every member of his family. He has his head resting against the edge of Louis side, a foot sitting on top of Liam, and a hand touching Niall’s arm. He’s a wild sleeper, but the family makes do. 

None of his children have woken up from his alarm so he figures that it’s okay to shut his eyes for a few more minutes before he has the tedious task of going downstairs and cooking them breakfast, and then while they eat he’d have to make their lunches for school, or in Liam’s case his lunch for when he’s dropped off the old lady next doors house. 

Then after breakfast he’ll have to run around and try to get Harry and Liam dressed because at ten years old, Niall is perfectly capable of doing these things himself. Of course then he’d have to gather Niall and Harry’s backpacks together and be sure to throw their lunch bags inside because even though Niall is ten and can get himself dressed he can’t seem to ever remember his homework. Harry at five is way too young to do any of this stuff. He tries but he usually ends up getting something wrong and then throwing the bag across the room. It’s faster if Louis does it. 

It’s tiring taking care of three boys by himself. It wasn’t always like this though. He used to have Eleanor around to help him. She was the mother to the three beautiful boys that Louis has sprawled out across his bed. 

He and Eleanor met during college. She was beautiful with long, toned legs, and flowing chestnut hair. She was the nicest and funniest person that Louis had ever met and he found himself immediately attracted to her. If Louis had to describe it he would say that it was love at first sight. He had never seen anyone like her before. He had never met a girl like her before, a girl that could make him question his sexuality. He had always believed himself to be gay but then Eleanor came around and he suddenly found his mouth watering at the thought of being with a female. 

Lucky for him Eleanor felt the exact same way, which is how after a year into their relationship they found themselves becoming parents for the first time with Niall. It was hard. Niall was a bright and beautiful baby and Louis still remembers the feeling of love that washed over him when Niall looked at him for the first time with those beautiful blue eyes. Louis doesn’t think he’s ever seen the sun until the day Niall was born. He was so bright and so happy that he created his own glow in every room even if he was only a newborn. It was the greatest day of Louis’ life but things got hard. 

He and Eleanor had to move in together so that they could be together to take care of the baby. Eleanor had to drop out of school and a few months after Niall was born so did Louis. She got a job at a day care so she could be with Niall and they wouldn’t have to pay for that while Louis went off and got a job working construction with his father. 

It wasn’t what they wanted for their lives but they were willing to sacrifice for Niall. 

It was five years later when Harry was born. Eleanor was taking night classes to try and finish her degree while Louis picked up a second job working nights at the packaging factory. Things were rough which is why Harry was conceived during make up sex after a particularly bad fight. Niall was only five and starting kindergarten when he became a big brother for the first time. 

Harry was a happy baby filled with giggles and love. His world revolved around touch and affection that the house didn’t realize it was missing. He was always laughing and smiling and bouncing around as long as there was someone there with him. Harry brought around a glow of his own with his curls and shiny green eyes. Louis world became even brighter the day he got his second son. 

A year later Liam was born. Louis blames his conception on Harry because Eleanor and Louis had sworn they were going to put off having any more children until they were married and had stable jobs. But Harry demanded a house with more love and affection and that transpired into Louis and Eleanor’s relationship as well. But at twenty-seven years old they found themselves having their third child. Eleanor had prayed that if she was going to have a third that it better be a girl. They weren’t disappointed though when Liam was born. Not with his chubby cheeks and wide eyes. 

Louis thinks back on it and realizes that Liam’s glow, while just as bright as his other two sons, is subtler. Liam isn’t as loud as Niall was as a baby. He didn’t spend everyday laughing in his bouncy chair nor did he spend everyday waving his arms around and demanding kisses like Harry did. Instead Liam was quiet and reserved and preferred soft touches and quiet giggles during quiet moments. 

Liam was so unlike both of his parents and his siblings that it brought forth a breath of fresh air into the house. With Liam’s birth Louis felt like the world had suddenly clicked into place and that he had finally found everything he was ever missing. 

Louis quits his job doing construction two years after Liam is born so that he can focus solely on working in the factory. The pay is better and they offered him a full time position with benefits. Eleanor has long given up her dream of getting a degree and stays at home to watch the kids. They moved out of their apartment and into a three-bedroom house on the edge of town. 

Things go back to being hard and tense after the move. They fight a lot in hushed whispers while the boys are sleeping in their rooms. Eleanor had become resentful against Louis that she never got to finish school and never will get to finish school. 

It’s hard and most days Louis knows Eleanor wishes this wasn’t her life, but they love each other and the kids so they stick together. 

But not everything can last with just love alone and at the age of thirty after ten years of being together, and nine years after the creation of their little family Eleanor walked out the door. She left with merely a suitcase and four broken hearts. Niall was nine, Harry was four and Liam was three. None of them understood what was happening but as the days went on the demands for mommy became less frequent. 

She wasn’t coming back.

It was a long time ago and Louis shakes those thoughts from his head as he drifts off back to sleep. 

~~~ 

They’re late. They’re later than late. It’s almost eight when Louis wakes up again with a start. He flies out of bed and rushes downstairs so he can get started on breakfast. He makes something easy and is back upstairs in less than five minutes to wake up his three boys. 

He starts with Niall. 

“Ni, bug you have to wake up. We’re running late today and breakfast is on the table,” he says as he gently rubs Niall’s stomach. Niall stirs and slowly blinks his eyes open with a smile. Niall nods his head and rolls out of bed easily to make his way down towards the breakfast table. 

He picks Harry next. 

The key to waking up Harry is encouraging words and lots of kisses. So Louis leans over the bed and begins gently stroking his fingers through Harry’s curls. Harry lets out a whine and rolls over. “Harry, can you wake up for Daddy?” Harry lets out a deep breath but doesn’t open his eyes. Louis leans down and kisses Harry on the forehead. “How about now?” Harry shakes his head again so Louis leans down and kisses his forehead twice. “Open your eyes. Let me see them.” 

Harry rolls over once more with a wide smile on his face as he blinks his eyes open to look at Louis. “Good morning, Daddy,” Harry says as he stands up on wobbly legs and attaches himself onto Louis chest. 

Louis shifts him over to his side and walks around the bed to begin waking up Liam. 

Louis reaches out and skates his fingers over the skin of Liam’s tummy that’s poking out from under the hem of shirt. “Liam, sweetheart.”

“Lili,” Harry sings. “Lili it’s morning.”

Liam pouts in his sleep before slowly opening his eyes and allowing Louis to scoop him up in his arms to balance on the other hip. 

~~~ 

Louis gets breakfast finished, lunches made, boys dressed, backpacks ready, and dropping the boys off in their respective locations within record time. He feels like he doesn’t breathe until he runs into work with his navy blue coveralls on and stamps his time card. 

Since Eleanor left his boss has understood the fact Louis can’t come into work as early as he used too. Normally Louis would be in at seven in the morning but now he can’t arrive until after nine and Louis thanks his lucky stars that Nick Grimshaw is an understanding boss no matter how much of a sarcastic ass he can be. 

“Late again, Tomlinson.” Louis turns around and sees Nick leaning against the wall with a bored expression on his face. “Is this going to be a habit?”

“Oh shut up,” Louis replies with a laugh. “Unlike you I have children that I need to take to school.”

“How are the little darlings?”

“They’re fine. How are you doing? Any luck with that boy you’ve been trying to snag?”

“No,” Nick says with a sigh. “It turns out he’s straight and very much in a relationship with some little blonde.” Nick rolls his eyes and starts to lead the two into his office with Louis following behind. He doesn’t know what his position is in the factory anymore but he knows that he spends most of the time locked away in Nick’s office talking and organizing shipment invoices and occasionally being ordered to go and yell at someone screwing up. Nick is the boss but it’s Louis that they take seriously. 

He steps inside Grimshaw’s office and closes the door behind him. Nick has a little television in the corner set on the news since it’s the only channel that the TV will pick up. He’s too lazy to invest in a DVD player so at least something good can play in the background. 

Louis sits down on the opposite side of Nick’s desk and begins going through the file folders of all the things that they have to do for the day while Nick fools around on his computer, most likely not doing work for the company. 

Louis is getting everything all the invoices organized when he hears something on the television that catches his ears. 

“We’re here at Lincoln Memorial Hospital where we’ve just received news of the only surviving victim of last nights near fatal crash on highway thirty.”

Louis cranes his neck around to look at the television and is met with the sight of a man wrapped in bandages with tan skin. His eyes are closed but Louis can see he has long black eyelashes with matching colored hair sticking out from under the head wrap. Something stirs inside Louis as he listens to the news reporter talk about the accident and how the driver of the car has died from their injuries. But she keeps talking about this man that’s alive but not awake yet and how the authorities are looking for someone to step forward and help them identify the mystery man so they can learn his medical history before they can properly treat him.

They flash back again to the image of the man and Louis lets out a gasp because he knows that boy. He knows the man lying in the hospital bed unconscious. He’s the same boy that used to bully Louis through high school and made his life a living hell. The man on the screen is Zayn Malik.


	2. Chapter 2

Louis stares at the television with his eyes glazed over and his mouth hung open as he listens to the news reporter talk to a doctor who is pleading with people in the camera. He’s not listening to a word that he’s saying because he can’t take his eyes off the picture of the tanned boy from his past in the corner.

He never thought he’d see him again. He thought that when he graduated high school and moved four towns over that he’d leave the past behind him and that Zayn wouldn’t follow.

He never expected to see the other boy at least with his image flashing on the screen with stark white bandages wrapped around his head or with his body covered in bruises and dried blood.

“Holy shit,” Louis breathes as he stares at the image on the television. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Louis hears Nick ask. “Oh that accident. I know it’s horrible. They’ve been talking about it all morning on the radio and everything.”

“What are they saying?” Louis asks as he cranes his neck towards Nick but doesn’t shift his eyes away from the screen.

“Just that one person was killed and another is in a coma, but they have no idea who the guy in the coma is since he’s not from around here. They’re having trouble finding out his identity and the doctors are worried about allergies and stuff. I don’t know I wasn’t really paying attention. It’s sad.”

“Why can’t they just look up his dental records or try his thumb prints or something?”

“I’m not a doctor,” Nick says and Louis hears a shuffling of papers. “I’m sure if they’re begging people on TV then they have no other means of finding anything out. Now stop paying attention to that and get back to work before I fire you.”

Louis turns his head away from the television and looks at his boss slash friend so he can roll his eyes dramatically because Nick would never fire him. He snatches the papers out of his hand and begins working anyway.

Only he finds himself shifting into autopilot as he goes through the tasks of his day. He feels like his body is going through the motions but his mind is thinking about the image of Zayn sprawled out in the hospital bed or the image of a car torn to pieces shattered across the highway in a crumbled heap.

He makes sure to try and function as normal as possible as he organizes the paperwork Nick’s handed him, sends out shipping invoices, and yells at the new guy for screwing up one of the machines and setting them behind.

It’s a normal day, and Louis tries not to let what he saw bother him.

~~~

Louis thanks Mrs. Hamilton as he carries Liam out of her house and across her yard back towards their own house. He’s got Liam on his hip and giant red piece of construction paper in his hand.

“Are you going to tell me about this picture that you made?”

“It’s flower,” Liam says. “Made you flower.”

Louis holds the paper in front of them as they make their way up the path towards their door and admires the marker lines across the page along with cut up pieces of construction paper in odd places. “You did a drawing and a collage.”

“I don’t know,” Liam replies as Louis unlocks the front door. “Just flower.”

“Well we’re going to put your just a flower drawing up on the door using tape. How does that sound?”

Liam nods his head and lets Louis carry him into the kitchen so they can rummage through the drawers in order to find the scotch tape that's always missing or used up. Last time it was because Harry had broken one of Louis’ DVD’s and tried to tape it back together so Louis wouldn’t find out. Or the time before that where Niall and his best friend taped each other’s faces when he spent the night. And Louis’ personal favorite, the time where all three boys were playing cops and robbers and Niall had somehow managed to convince Liam and Harry to let him tape them to the kitchen chairs as their own personal form of prison.

Louis finds the tape shoved deep into the back of the drawer where they keep the washcloths and sets Liam down on the ground. He guides Liam over towards the backdoor where he carefully peels off four strips of tape so he can adhere the construction paper to the glass.

“What do you think?” Louis asks as he takes a step back to admire it.

“Why it there?” Liam asks as he looks up at Louis in wonder.

“It’s a flower and now when you look out the glass of the door you’ll see your flower with all the other flowers outside.”

Liam nods and smiles once more before turning and walking out of the room.

~~~

Louis waits until after dinner to indulge himself in his…well, his obsession with what he saw on TV earlier in the day. He makes sure that each of his sons is occupied doing something (Liam on the floor with a plush toys as he dances them across the floor, Harry laid out on the couch as he works his way through a picture book with a stuffed animal in his lap, and Niall sitting at the dining room table doing homework) before he sneaks into his bedroom.

He rips through his drawers and his closet in search of his old high school yearbooks. He finds them in a box under his bed and carries them back into the living room.

He settles into the armchair and flips it open. The first picture he’s met with the building of his old school and his blood runs cold as he remembers everything that happened to him there. But this isn’t about high school. He flips through the pages and looks at pictures of his old classmates, rolling his eyes at some particularly bad pictures of himself, and everyone else.

He jumps ahead towards the back where seniors have their own dedicated pages of photographs submitted by their parents, and friends where they can write comments and praises of the person listed. He skims through until he finds the full-page spread dedicated to Zayn.

He touches over the pictures of Zayn growing up until the gets to the ones of the Zayn that he remembers with the dark hair, dark eyes and letterman jackets. He was a football star with the right touch of popularity that had people eating out of the palms of his hands and following every direction, every order that he threw out at them.

Louis rolls his eyes at the walking cliché that is Zayn Malik.

Louis knew him his entire life. Well, knew of him. They went to grade school together and for the longest time Zayn was the weird kid, because he was quiet and celebrated different holidays nobody had ever heard of. He didn’t bother anyone and they paid him the same respect. Louis was much the same with his colorful pants and matching hats his mom made for him when she was home with his baby sisters. Louis was also the weird kid but not because of his temperament and religious practice but rather because his clothes were never new and his shoes always had a little hole in them where his toe would stick out until his mother had enough money saved up to buy him a new pair. Everything was secondhand in the Tomlinson household but with four sisters and a stay at home mother and a father in construction he could never really blame them for the life he had. He didn’t know any different.

But then junior high happened and Zayn came back with a new attitude and for some reason everyone loved him. He had an air of confidence that floated around him and Louis was just the kid who cut his neighbors grass and cleaned their pools so he could bring home some extra money.

Louis was never bullied or made to feel like he was less than anyone, but people just skirted around him and he was fine with that.

High school was…high school wasn’t the greatest place for Louis. It wasn’t some clichéd place that made him feel like he was in prison and no one treated him like he was a piece of shit but then again no one really knew he was alive. After junior high he kind of fell off the radar and no one really remembered him or at least they didn’t act like they did.

He was almost like a ghost to his school. He floated in and out of the hallways, keeping to himself, and trying his best to make friends. He occupied his time with clubs and committees in order to aid him on his quest for friends, and it worked but they only ever really talked to him during their meetings and events but never during school and especially not outside of school.

It wasn’t ideal, but he managed. He was okay and everything was okay…until junior year.

Every year the football team gathered together and did a prank on the entire school. It was different that year though because instead of focusing on the school they decided to target a specific group of people. Only it wasn’t a group, it was Louis. He was alone in the locker rooms taking a shower after gym class and when he stepped out he found that his towel wasn't on the hook, his clothes weren’t in his locker. All of his possessions were missing and every single spare article of clothing in the lost and found was gone. He found that all the lockers were locked and he was alone, stark naked with nothing to do and nothing to wear.

And that was the exact moment that Zayn walked in with a smirk on his face with the entire football team behind him. They backed Louis into a corner and slowly the locker room started to fill with boys and girls as the all gathered around to see what Zayn and his crew had done to the kid no one talked to.

Soon after pictures circulated around the school and the Internet. After that Louis was no longer a person but an object for people to ridicule and make to feel like he wasn’t welcome.

It lasted the last two years of high school with the other odd ‘pranks’ from people around the school but Zayn was never far away when anything happened, and staring at Zayn’s pictures now brought back the same rush of anger and hurt he felt nine years ago when he last saw the boy.

“Who are you looking at, Daddy?”

Louis glances up from the page and sees Harry standing in front of him with a stuffed animal clutched to his chest as he tries to get a better look at the book in Louis’ lap. Harry huffs out a breath when he realizes he can’t see the pictures properly so Louis helps pull him up on the couch. Harry settles himself back against Louis’ chest and runs his little fingers across the paper.

“Who is this boy, Daddy?”

“He’s someone I went to school with…a long time ago,” Louis replies as he pulls his hand up to smooth out Harry’s hair. “We grew up together.”

“Is he your friend?” Harry asks as he traces his finger along the outline of Zayn’s face on the page. “Where’s your pictures?”

“My pictures? Do you want to see my pictures?”

Harry nods and helps himself to flipping through the pages in search of his father. He finds him and lets out a loud gasp. “Daddy, why are you wearing that silly hat?” Harry asks with a giggle. “That’s baby Daddy.”

“Your grandma made me that hat. She made me thirty of those hats when I was Niall’s age.”

“What hat?” Louis hears Liam ask from his spot on the floor.

He pats the spot next to him and waits for Liam to curl up next to him so he can see the pictures they’re looking at on the page dedicated to Louis that his mother put in.

“Hats nice,” Liam says as he looks up at his father.

Louis feels a weight lean against the back of the chair followed by Niall’s voice saying, “I think you look weird.”

“Well thank you, Niall. I’ll be sure to let your grandma know that you hate her favorite hats.”

~~~

It’s been two days since the initial news broadcast about Zayn and officials still don’t know who he is. He hasn’t woken up and they’re firm on keeping everything else about his condition private.

Louis watches the news reports obsessively while he’s at work, hoping and praying that someone will step forth and admit to knowing the boy without him doing it. He feels a heavy burden resting on his shoulders as every second passes by where no one finds out the truth about the boy in the hospital bed.

It’s eating at him and eating at him as he listens to the broadcasts while sitting in Nick’s off which is exactly why he breaks.

“I know who that is,” Louis blurts as he drops the pen in his hand. “I’ve known this entire time who that man is.”


	3. Chapter 3

Louis looks up and sees that Nick is staring at him with his eyes wide open and his mouth forming the shape of a circle. He looks at Louis for a moment and then towards the TV where Zayn’s image is still placed in the corner of the screen and then towards Louis again. He shifts his graze every few seconds and every time he does his mouth quirks in a different way like he’s trying to form a sentence that just won’t come. The longer that Nick continues these actions the more Louis feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. 

It feels like an hour before Nick cocks his head to the side and looks at Louis and says, “what?”

Louis laughs lightly and awkwardly, because for such a build up he would have thought Nick would have come up with a better sentence but he stops laughing when he sees Nick’s serious expression. “I-um,” Louis coughs and clears his throat as he readjusts his position in his chair. “I know who that is.”

“The man in the hospital. You know who that is?”

“Yeah,” Louis replies.

Nick grabs the remote on his desk and mutes the television that creates an unsettling silence in the room. Louis can still hear the sounds of the other employees talking, the machines going, delivery trucks coming and going but without the sound of the news reporter begging him to identify Zayn the room becomes eerie and the look on Nick’s face isn’t helping matters.

“How long have you known who he is?” Nick asks as he settles back into his chair.

“Well technically,” Louis starts, “I’ve known who he is since we were about six or seven years old, but in regards to the news reports only, like, two days.”

“You’ve known who he is this entire time? Louis, what the fuck? You have to go in to that hospital and tell them everything that you know about him. You have to go in there and say that you know who he is. They’re desperate.”

“I know, I know,” Louis replies with a wince. “I know."

“If you know then why are you here talking to me? Get up and go to the hospital right now and tell them that man’s name. It’s important that they find this out.”

“Can’t I do it after work?” Louis asks in vain.

“No,” Nick says as he stands up and slaps Louis on the arm as he walks past him towards the door to his office, and swings it open. He holds it open and motions with his hand that he wants Louis to get up and get out. “I will take off early and pick up your children for you so you don’t need to worry about them but you do need to worry about is what you’re going to tell the hospital because I want you out of my office and out of this entire building.”

Louis stands up and grabs his coat from the hook on the wall and gathers up all of personal belongings before making his way out of the office.

He’s halfway down the hall when he hears Nick shout, “and don’t bother coming back into work until you’ve gone down there. I’ll know if you have or not since all anyone can talk about is that guy,” followed by the sound of Nick’s door slamming shut. 

~~~~

Louis is sitting in his car, staring up at the brown brick building in front of him as he tries to think up every irrational reason on why he shouldn’t be here. He could always go home and call the police or the hospital and give them an anonymous tip that he believes the man’s name is Zayn.

He could always text Nick Zayn’s name and then force him into telling them what Louis knows. He knows that won’t work though because Nick has his kids and if he wants to go back to work or see his children again then he needs to get out of the car and march into that hospital and tell them everything he knows.

He curses Nick and his obsessive need to have the television on at work as he steps out of the car. He slams the door behind, harder than necessary, and makes his way towards the double entry automatic doors that separate the interior of the hospital from the exterior.

When he gets inside there are people, everywhere; there are shiny plastic chairs lined around the walls and throughout the middle of the floor where groups of people are sat, reading magazines, chewing on their fingernails, waiting anxiously for whatever reason brings them here. There are people moving around in scrubs yielding clipboards and carts full of items that Louis hasn’t seen since the birth of Liam.

He walks up towards the front desk and waits patiently for the woman behind the counter to notice him. He briefly sees that the name ‘Sarah’ is embroidered onto her shirt. Louis averts his eyes away from her chest and towards her face, which is now looking at him expectantly.

“I need to talk to someone in charge around here, I guess,” Louis says as he waves his arms around idly. “It’s important.”

“Sir, you’ll have to fill out these forms and then bring them back to me and have a seat before you can see someone. That’s policy,” she explains.

“No, I’m not here because I want to see a doctor. I’m here because I want to see…your boss.”

“My boss?” The nurse named Sarah asks as she leans back in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest. “Sir, I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“Is there like a manager or something? Do hospitals have managers?” Louis asks. “Maybe they’re called like Chief of Hospital, or Chief of Medicine? I’m not sure. Where can I go to talk to someone? Is there an information desk?”

“Sir, I don’t have time to play games with you. There are people that actually need help so could you kindly step away from the counter and come back when you know what it is you want or need that would be great.”

Louis groans and drops his head onto the counter before picking himself up. “I can’t leave.”

“And why is that?”

“I know who the man in the accident is and I need to talk to someone so I can explain to them that I know who the man in the accident is. The one they keep mentioning on the news. I know who he is,” Louis says as he points to himself. “I know.”

The woman’s mouth drops open as he motions for Louis to wait by holding up her finger as she picks up the phone. She punches in several numbers and mumbles things into the phone that Louis doesn’t pay attention to because now there is no turning back.

~~~~

Louis is sitting inside a cramped room with supplies on one side and a bookcase stuffed with medical books on the other. He’s sitting in a green chair with plastic coverings with a big wooden desk in front of him as he waits for someone to come and talk to him.

After the nurse got off the phone he was immediately ushered to this tiny office on the sixth floor while he waits for someone, he wasn’t told who, to come and talk to him. When he got inside the room he pulled out his phone and saw three texts from Nick:

**I got your kidsssssssssssssssss**

**Wait. Where is Liam?**

**Never mind. Niall told me. You better not be replying because you’re at the hospital. Don’t come home until you have it taken care of or else I’m going to hype your kids on sugar and leave you to take care of the mess.**

Louis jumps when he hears the sound of someone clearing his or her throat followed by the office door closing. He looks up and sees a middle aged man in teal scrubs with a white over coat sitting down in the chair across from him. He flips open a file and pulls out a pen from the cup on his desk and smiles up at Louis.

“Good evening, I’m Dr. Langdon. I heard you know about my patient. Care to tell me what you can?”

Louis takes a deep breath. “His name is Zayn, Zayn Malik.”

“I see and how old is Mr. Malik?”

“He’s twenty-eight. He’ll be twenty-nine in January.”

Dr. Langdon writes down everything that Louis tells him and Louis knows that it’s all vital information and once he’s started giving out information he finds that he can’t stop. “He’s allergic to grapefruit, not like it matters here, I guess. He’s got perfect vision, but he can’t run for too long because his left calf is prone to cramping despite the fact he played sports growing up. He’s a really good singer but that’s probably not important. I know he got his tonsils taken out in the seventh grade and broke his ankle when we were seventeen. I mean, I don’t know; what would you like to know about him?”

The doctor lowers his glasses onto the bridge of his nose and stares at Louis for a moment.

“You seem to know him pretty well.”

“We grew up together,” Louis explains.

“You must be close to him. I’m guessing he and his friend were in town coming to see you.”

Louis doesn’t have time to shake his head and deny the statement because the doctor is closing the file and motioning for Louis to follow him out of the room.

They walk down the hall and turn down a corridor with a set of double doors, much like the ones at the front of the building, and turn into room 621. It’s a patient’s room and Louis doesn't have to look at the figure on the bed to know that they brought him to Zayn’s room.

He didn’t want to see Zayn in person and see what kind of state he was in but here he is lying in front of him with his body wrapped in white gauze and his flesh covered in scabs and bruises. He steps closer to the bed and sees needles jabbed into Zayn’s arm, connected to machines and an IV. He has a tube coming out the base of his neck in between his collarbones along with tubes coming from out of his mouth and his nose.

Louis turns towards the doctor with horrified eyes as he drops down in the chair next to Zayn.

“He’s comatose,” the doctor explains. “It’s not permanent as far as we can tell but we’ve had trouble getting him to respond to us. Maybe now that you’re here, and you’re someone he knows, someone he’s close with, maybe now he’ll want to wake up.”

“I don’t think he’ll wake up for me,” Louis replies as he stares at the rise and fall of Zayn’s chest.

“You’d be amazed what the human body can do,” Dr. Langdon replies before patting Louis shoulder and stepping out of the room.

~~~~

Louis gets home and finds Nick sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone, Liam sitting next to him, staring at the side of his head, Harry trying to crawl into his lap without Nick noticing, and Niall laid out across the floor, watching a movie.

Nick looks up at the sound of the door and relief immediately washes over his features as he jumps off the couch and practically runs towards Louis.

“Thank god you’re back,” Nick mumbles as he wraps his arms around Louis. “They’re fed and Niall finished all his homework but I have to leave. I can’t. There are too many of them.”

“There are only three of them,” Louis replies as he drops his keys down and tries to shrug off his coat but the task is proven difficult with Nick still hanging on him.

“You might think there are only three but Harry is equal to at least seven. He spent the entire time hanging onto my leg and tugging on my shirt so I’d pick him up and if I sat down then he would crawl into my lap and I just need to get out of here before he tries to sneak into my car.” Nick pulls away from Louis and steps out of the door that Louis left open for him. He turns back around and motions for Louis to step closer.

“Liam has a staring problem,” Nick mumbles into Louis’ ear. “He spent the entire time just looking at me. You should get him checked out.”

Louis rolls his eyes and shoves Nick out his front door, “goodbye, Grimshaw.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Nick shouts as Louis closes the door on his face.

Louis turns around and sees Harry standing in the doorway shifting from foot to foot with his arms tucked behind his back as he smiles up at Louis. “Where did he go, Daddy?”

Louis bends over and picks Harry up so he can hug him close. “He had to go home, buddy.” 

Harry huffs out a breath and nuzzles his face into Louis' neck as Louis carries him towards the living room so they can join the other two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a doctor. I don't pretend to be a doctor. I know absolutely nothing about hospitals or medicine. My knowledge on comas begins and ends with my cousin and best friend who were both comatose at some point but this is a fictional story and we can all pretend that this is how life works, okay? Okay.


	4. Chapter 4

Louis is in bed for the night with a book in his lap as he tries to get some reading done before bed. The ceiling fan light is turned off but he kept the light on his bedside table on to create a soft yellow glow perfect for reading but also perfect to help him fall asleep mid chapter so he won’t toss and turn all night as the thoughts of what he saw in the hospital continue to circulate through his mind. He can’t stop thinking about what Zayn looked like lying in that hospital bed with tubes coming out of nose, arms, mouth and throat. His eyes were closed, his head was turned upright, and his mouth was dropped slightly open. Louis remembers him being a glowing gold but this Zayn, comatose in a hospital is pale and sickly looking and his skin has a green tinge to it. It’s unnerving and hard for Louis to witness.

It’s not even that it’s Zayn lying in a bed but the simple fact that it’s someone whose alone and could possibly die and no one knows…no one but Louis. He’s the only person in the entire world who knows that Zayn is there and it’s been eating away at him since he walked into Zayn’s room. 

Louis hears the sound of his bedroom door opening and looks up to see Niall peeking through the crack in the door. He dog-ears the page he’s on, closes the door and sets it down on the bedside table. He scoots over and pats the bed to allow room for Niall. Niall shoves the door open before carefully walking towards Louis’ bed. 

“What’s going on, Ni?”

Niall stops at the edge of the bed and looks up at Louis with wide blue eyes and stares at him for a moment, it’s reminiscent of when Niall was younger and he would sneak into Louis and Eleanor’s room in the middle of the night and just stand at the edge of the bed until someone woke up and made room for him. 

“Come on, bug,” Louis says as he throws back the blankets and pats the bed once again. 

Niall shakes his head and Louis frowns. “Are you sick?” Niall asks causing Louis’ frown to deepen. 

“What do you mean?”

“Uncle Nick said that the reason you weren’t home when we got back from school was because you were at the hospital. He said you went to the hospital. Are you sick?”

“Oh bug, no I’m not sick.”

“Did you get hurt at work?”

“I went there to take care of something. I have,” Louis pauses momentarily to try and pick the right words to tell his son, “a friend in the hospital right now and he doesn’t have any family in town or any other friend’s in town to go and talk to the doctor. So I had to go there and make sure that he was okay. I’m perfectly fine; you don’t need to worry, okay? Now come and cuddle me.”

Niall nods his head and crawls into bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin and throwing himself against Louis’ side. Louis wiggles down until he’s lying flat on his back and wraps an arm around Niall’s body so they’re proper cuddling. 

“I’m sorry you were scared. Uncle Nick should have chosen his words more carefully, but you know how he can be.”

“It’s okay,” Niall says. “I’m glad you got to help your friend. He’s lucky to have you, Dad.” Niall yawns and closes his eyes and Louis is glad that someone is feeling good about what happened at the hospital. 

~~~ 

Louis wakes up in the morning to all three of his son’s sleeping in his bed. It’s not surprising Niall is still curled up against his side. The only change is Liam and Harry are now in the bed. Harry is laid out with his head resting on Louis’ thighs while Liam is laid out behind Niall’s head on the pillow. If Louis were going to guess he could probably bet that Harry had woken up in the middle of the night and then proceeded to wake Liam up as well so they could both make the trek down the dark hallway towards their father’s room. 

Louis lies in bed with the three of them and reaches out to grab his phone from where it’s perched on the nightstand. He unlocks it and opens a blank message so he can tell Nick that he’s not coming into work today. Nick won’t question him and Louis is grateful. 

He feels Harry begin to roll around against his leg and when he looks down he sees Harry smiling up at him in a lazy fashion with blinking green eyes as he slowly comes out his sleep. Harry rolls over and crawls up Louis’ body until he’s got his head resting in the crook of Louis’ neck and the rest of his body laid out against Louis’ torso. Louis tosses his phone back towards the nightstand before wrapping the arm that Niall isn’t laying out around Harry.

“Morning, Daddy,” Harry says in an attempted whisper. 

“Harry, quieter, Niall and Liam are still sleeping.”

Harry giggles and presses his finger to his lips. “Sorry, Daddy. Did you have sweet dreams?”

“Wonderful dreams, Harry.” 

“When are Niall and Liam going to wake up? We’ve been awake for hours, Daddy.”

Louis laughs, lightly and quietly, as he rubs Harry’s back. “It hasn’t been hours.”

“Can we wake up Liam? He’s not apart of our cuddle. He can go over there,” Harry says as he throws one of his hands in the air in an attempt to point towards the empty section of bed on Louis’ right. 

Louis doesn't get a chance to tell Harry that no they cannot wake people up for the sole reason of cuddling because his brothers deserve sleep just as much as he does, because Louis hears the telltale sign of Liam’s wake up whine. 

Harry lifts his head up and smiles at Liam. “Good morning, Lili, come and join our cuddle.”

Liam sits up slowly and looks over at his brothers and father all lying down with their limbs wrapped around each other. He blinks up at them and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen because his shirt is pulled up and Louis can see the top of his pull up around his chubby waist. He’s rubbing his eyes with his fists and it draws attention to the fact that his light brown hair is standing up in every direction. 

“Liam, come and cuddle,” Harry says with a pout. 

Liam stands up on wobbly legs and walks across the pillow to get to Louis other side. He carefully steps over Louis’ head before lying down on the bed tucking himself against Louis’ side and under his arm. He sighs happily and closes his eyes. 

Harry grins up at Louis before dropping his head back down and drawing patterns with his fingers along Louis’ chest. 

“I like cuddling,” Harry explains to Louis. “Can we stay here all day and not go to school or anything?”

Louis thinks about it for a moment and thinks that the kids would be a nice distraction from his thoughts since he took off work. It’s only one day and he can tell the school that they’ve all got doctor’s appointments or some other lie. It’s one day and Louis really can’t be assed to get out of bed and begin making breakfast and rushing around three children who will no doubt take their precious time as they get ready. 

“Yeah, all right,” Louis agrees. “But Harry do you think that you could sleep in for a bit longer? Daddy wants to lie in for a little while.”

Harry nods his head and squeezes his eyes shut tight to show Louis that he’ll go back to sleep. Louis knows that he won’t, Harry never goes back to sleep. But Louis accepts it and closes his own eyes as he tightens his grip around his sons.

~~~ 

It’s a quiet day at home but Louis cannot stop thinking about if Zayn is still alive today or not. It’s a sick obsession because he can’t stop thinking about it. He doesn’t care as long as Zayn lives. He cannot have a death on his hands because he didn’t act sooner even if the person he’s worried about is the asshole who ruined his life for two solid years. Louis doesn’t care how long ago it was because things like that don’t just leave you.

It becomes too fucking much and Louis tells the boys that he needs to go and visit a friend, a sick friend, and explains to them that while he’s gone they’re going to spend the day with Mrs. Hamilton. He gets them ready and before the door to Mrs. Hamilton’s house closes Niall rushes out and hugs his father and says, “I hope your friend feels better today.”

 

~~~ 

Louis enters the hospital and briskly walks past the front desk where a set of new nurses are sat talking to incoming patients, answering phone calls and typing away at computers as he attempts to remember the route he took to Zayn’s room. 

He takes the elevator up to the sixth floor and walks around for what can only be fifteen minutes in search of Zayn’s room. He knew the numbers that were outside Zayn’s door but he can’t remember what order they went in. He walks into room 612 to see an empty bed. He panics and immediately runs to a nurse and asks what happened to the patient. She smiles at him sadly and explains that the patient had finally passed and they were prepping the room for a new patient at the moment. Louis stares at her with horrified eyes because how could Zayn had died when just yesterday he was told that there was a chance Zayn could wake up. 

Louis feels sick. He’s still standing in front of the nurse and he hopes that she has quick reflexes because there is now way that the bile rising up his throat won’t make its way onto her shirt. He feels like part of this is his fault because he couldn’t find the gall to tell the hospital sooner that he knew about Zayn.

The nurse smiles at him sadly. “She was a wonderful woman.”

Louis opens his mouth to answer but realization dawns on him that she said ‘she’ and not ‘he’. “Wait. She?”

“Yeah the woman in the room. She was a wonderful woman.”

“But what about Zayn? Isn’t this his room?”

The nurse cocks her head in confusion. “I don’t know any Zayn’s, sir.”

“He’s in a coma on this floor, and he was brought in from the accident that’s been all over the news for days. That’s Zayn.”

“Oh sir you came to the wrong room. He’s in room 621 that room behind you is 612.” 

Louis whips around and glances at the door behind him and sees the little plaque next to the door with white letters that definitely say room 612. Louis breathes out a sigh of relief because Zayn isn’t dead and his procrastination didn’t kill him. He thanks the nurse and follows the plaques next to the doors until he reaches the correct one. 

Louis enters the room and sees the nurse taking vitals from an awake Zayn. Louis freezes mid step and stares at the scene in front of him because Zayn is awake. He’s awake, his eyes are open and there are no longer tubes in his throat and mouth. He looks cranky and miserable but he’s awake and alive.

“Who the hell are you?” Zayn asks as he stares at Louis. 

Louis doesn’t have it in him to answer so he just continues to stare at him. The nurse looks up towards the door where Louis is standing with mouth open wide and his eyes even wider. She looks at him for a second before her face flashes in realization because she’s the same one from the day before that he half yelled at from the front desk, the same one he saw Dr. Langdon talking to when he ran out of the hospital. “Oh him? Mr. Malik, this is your husband, Louis. Don’t you remember Louis?”


	5. Chapter 5

Zayn’s eyes slowly open as he tries to adjust to the blinding light of the room. He looks around the room and realizes that he has no idea where he is or how he got here. He’s struggling to breathe because there are tubes in his throat, nose and mouth. He recognizes that he’s in a hospital but he doesn’t have any recollection of how he got here. He lifts his arms and feels it ache due to lack of use. His muscles feel stiff as he tries to find the button that will call the nurse. He finds it attached to the side of the bed and begins pressing it urgently. 

Zayn barely has time to put his hand back down next to his body before a nurse comes running into the room. She shuts off the nurse call and begins puttering around him as she extracts the tube from down Zayn’s throat and begins adjusting machines and devices that he has no idea what they do or why he’s attached to them to begin with. He glances down at his arm and sees a series of cuts and what he knows is described as road rash. He’s seen on people who have fallen off their bikes or skateboards and he briefly wonders if he ended up here due to an accident. 

The nurse leaves and comes back with a small glass of water along with a portly looking man dressed in a white overcoat that all doctors seem to wear these days and he has a stethoscope wrapped around his neck. The doctor messes around with a small computer system while the nurse changes his IV bag. Zayn waits impatiently and blurts, “Can anyone tell me why I’m here?”

“Well, Mr. Malik-“

“Who the fuck is Mr. Malik?” Zayn interrupts.

Zayn looks at the doctor expectantly and notices the ways his eyes widen, only slightly, while the nurse behind him is completely frozen. 

~~~ 

Amnesia. An hour of tests and questions and Dr. Langdon tells him that he has amnesia. They don’t know the permanence of his memory loss or what aspects of his life are missing but he since he didn’t even remember his own name they’re worried that it’s all gone. They tell him he’s had a visitor the other day and they’ll try calling him later in the evening. 

Zayn begs off any visits from nurses and his doctor for the next couple hours so he can wrap his head around the fact that this morning he woke up in a hospital with no recollection of who he is or how he got here. He was told that he’s been there a week but only one person has come to see him…once. Zayn doesn’t know who he is but he has a feeling that he’s not worthy of much if no one cared about him being in an accident. 

He spends hours in his room with the windows covered so he can sit in some semblance of darkness, the hospital refuses to turn off their lights so the harsh bright light from the hallway is seeping under his door and casting light throughout the room. Before the doctor left he made him pull the curtain that wraps around his bed out so his bed is shielded from the door and anyone who tries to enter his room. 

He wills himself to remember the accident and to remember anything he can about himself but nothing is coming to him. He tries not to cry at the fact he has no idea who he is besides what the doctor has told him. 

~~~ 

Zayn doesn’t get to keep his wish of being left alone because a few hours later there is a nurse coming in, flicking on the lights and whipping the curtain back. Zayn scowls at her for her rude behavior and rolls over onto his back so she can check his blood pressure and whatever else it is she wants from him. 

She’s checking his pulse when his door swings open and reveals a brunette male. He stops a few feet from the door and doesn't look like he was expecting to see Zayn or anyone else in this room. 

“Who the hell are you?” Zayn asks when the man just stands there and stares for a few moments too long. 

The man doesn’t say anything but continues staring with his mouth wide open. The nurse glances up from his arm and checks to see who has entered the room. 

“Oh him? Mr. Malik, this is your husband, Louis. Don’t you remember Louis?” The nurse asks and Zayn shakes his head. 

“I don’t know any Louis and I’m certainly not married, especially married to a male wearing mismatched socks.”

The man, Louis, continues standing in the entrance of Zayn’s room and doesn’t say anything. The nurse looks between the two of them sadly before turning back to Zayn. “Louis here was the visitor we told you about. He came in here, freaking out and demanding to see you from what I heard. Nurses have been talking about how horrible it is for him with you in the coma and now you don’t remember him.”

“Am I supposed to remember you?” Zayn asks, turning to Louis.

Louis shrugs his shoulders. 

“That's not an answer,” Zayn replies. 

Louis drops down in the chair along the wall opposite Louis’ bed while the nurse carries on with her duties. Zayn watches Louis’ carefully while he waits for the nurse to leave. The man has tan skin, not as dark as Zayn’s, and chestnut hair that is scattered across his head in a casual mess that Zayn can’t tell is purposeful or not. Zayn notices that neither of them are wearing wedding rings and he wonders if the nurse got her stories crossed about another comatose patient with an urgent husband. If this Louis guy really is his husband than Zayn decides he’s not very good. He didn’t seem excited about the fact that Zayn is awake and he didn’t break down in tears like Zayn thinks most lovers would do in the event their partner woke up. 

When the nurse heads out to leave she stops in front of Louis’ and says, “He’s lost his memory. He didn’t remember his name, and he doesn't remember anything about the accident or his life before you.”

“He has amnesia?” Louis asks. 

“Yes,” Zayn replies. “Isn’t there confidentiality? Are you allowed to tell my business to strangers that I’ve never met before?” 

“He’s your husband,” the nurse replies before stomping out of the room. 

Zayn waits until the door clicks shut behind her before he turns to Louis. “Well…is she telling the truth? Are we really married?”

Louis seems to hesitate for a moment before he shrugs his shoulders with a nod.

And Zayn knows that he told himself he wouldn’t cry but for some reason learning that there are other people he’s completely forgotten in his life forces him to break down in a fresh set of tears. He turns his back to Louis’ and cries into his pillow until he falls asleep. 

~~~ 

“You’re still here?” Zayn asks as he slowly blinks awake and sees Louis’ sitting next to the bed, phone in hand, texting rapidly. 

Louis jumps and clutches his hand to his heart. “Jesus, you scared me.” 

Zayn pulls himself up into a sit and watches as Louis’ finishes a message before sticking his phone into his pocket. He drops his hands into his lap and looks up at Zayn, waiting for something. Zayn studies his face and he can admit that this Louis’ guy is attractive and he might be a good person but Zayn knows nothing about him besides that he and a nurse have both said they’re married. He doesn’t think he would ever be the type to get married but he can’t remember, he can’t actually remember anything about himself other than he’s Zayn Malik, a man without a memory due to an accident, married to someone named Louis. 

“Is Malik your last name or mine?” Zayn asks. 

“Yours,” Louis replies. “Mine is Tomlinson.”

“We have different last names? I thought we were married.”

Louis shrugs and says, “Malik is your birth last name. I never said it’s what you go by.”

“Zayn Tomlinson,” Zayn tests out. It has a bit of a ring to it and he can understand why Louis wouldn’t have taken his last name. Louis Malik doesn’t sound as great. Zayn wonders if maybe he had a falling out with his parents or family that caused the decision to take Louis’ last name. 

“How old are we?”

“We’re thirty.”

“How long have we known each other?”

“Our whole lives pretty much,” Louis says. 

“Where’s my family?” Zayn asks. 

“I don’t…I don’t know,” Louis says with a frown. “I don’t know where they are or how to get in contact with them.”

Zayn nods and accepts the information as fact because if Louis doesn’t know then there is no way that Zayn could possibly know. He was in a coma and his family didn’t bother coming to see him because the nurse had said only Louis had come to see him. 

“So we’re really married?”

Louis nods but doesn’t say anything. Zayn feels like there is something Louis isn’t sharing or maybe he’s trying to spare the details because this is hard for Zayn, and he doesn’t want to have to deal with this anymore. There are so many gaps in his life. He doesn’t know where he’s from or where he went to school. He doesn’t remember the family that hasn’t visited him, if they even exist anymore. It’s more than he’s willing to take in so instead of asking more question like he wants to, he settles into the bed and stares up at the ceiling while Louis stares at him. 

They sit in silence as Zayn tries to process the events and information of the day. He wonders how long he’s been sleeping and how long his memory will be misplaced when Louis’ phone begins ringing. He glances over and sees Louis pulling it out of his pocket. 

“Hello?... Niall, no… Niall, you know that you’re not allowed to cook things. What’s going on?... Why is Harry screaming?... Where is Uncle Nick?... Niall put your brother on the phone right now.”

Zayn’s eyes go wide as he listens to the conversation taking place before him. Louis is talking to a child and mentioning a brother, which can only mean one thing. He feels himself getting dizzy with the realization of what the conversation means. He wants to throw up because there is so much that he’s forgetting and he doesn’t know how this could happen. 

Louis is talking to a child, and he’s mentioning Uncles and brothers and that can only mean that Louis has children. If Louis has children then so does Zayn. More than one child, and it’s barely been a few hours since he’s woken up. He feels the need to throw up because he’s forgotten about himself, about a husband, about children, and about a family. Zayn has an entire family with Louis and he can’t remember where or how it started. He can’t even picture what his children might look like. He only knows one is named Niall because of over hearing a conversation Louis is having on the phone. He’s never even heard of the name Niall before, and he has no way of knowing if Niall is blonde or brunette or when they decided to start a family. He overhears the names Harry and Liam and wonders if those are children of his too. 

Zayn’s head is swirling and he has to close his eyes and push his fingers into his temple so he can stop the headache that’s coming. He can hear the heart monitor increasing in noise as his pulse begins to quicken. He can’t breathe but he needs to know if those people on the other side of the phone belong to him. 

Louis seems to notice the internal struggle that Zayn is having and quickly hangs up the phone with a ‘daddy has to go, I’ll be home soon.’ As soon as he removes the phone from his ear Zayn says, “was that…I mean, the person you were talking to those are our kids?”


	6. Chapter 6

Louis skips work for the next couple days to spend time with Zayn in the hospital. After the initial shock of the first night Zayn had reached an acceptance about the fact that he and Louis were married. He was still full of questions, all of which Louis was able to answer with ease. Most of Zayn’s questions had revolved around Harry, Liam and Niall. He wanted to know about them. Zayn had said he doesn’t remember anything but he doesn’t feel like he would have had children. He said he didn’t think that he was the type to want children. But then he remembers that he hadn’t even remembered his own name so there was no way he could remember if he was the type of person who wanted children when in a marriage. 

He tried to get questions out of Louis’ about his family, his childhood, his hobbies, his interests, anything to flip some kind of switch in his brain to shift it into gear of what it is to be Zayn. None of it worked and Louis is impressed that Zayn is holding together as well as he is. 

Three days without work, and news that Zayn would be getting out of the hospital in a day meant that Louis’ needed to get into work to talk to Nick about everything that had happened in the hospital. He needed to be able to ask Nick what to do about Zayn and his children. 

Currently he’s sitting in Nick’s office, staring at his best friend, who is scrolling through his phone, giggling at whatever website he’s on. He knows that it’s now or never to come clean about his plan on what to do with his “marriage” to Zayn.

“Zayn’s awake,” Louis says, staring at Nick in an attempt to gauge his reaction. “I, um, spoke to him.”

“Yeah what about?”

“The nurses seem to think that I’m his husband and I just didn’t bother correcting them,” Louis says with a shrug, attempting to sound casual. 

“You just didn’t bother to correct them?” Nick parrots in outrage. “You thought…wait why?” Nick looks bewildered as he stares at Louis with his mouth half open. 

“I was going to. I opened my mouth and I was ready to say that there was no way in hell we were married but he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t remember me and he doesn’t even remember himself so what harm would it do to think I’m his husband?”

“Why would you want him to be your husband or to even think he is?” Nick asks. “You don’t even like him.”

“I told you the nurses think we’re married. She said they’ve been talking about how upsetting it is to have a husband in a coma. They thought I was his husband because they heard how much I know about him and his life. I asked one of them and she said that his doctor thought we were married but I just didn’t want to say anything because we’re gay and people have problems with that. The entire fucking floor thought we were married before he had even gained consciousness. And then she said it and it was like time stood still and I had a moment to think about it.”

“And during that time you thought oh wow this is going to be great.”

“Yeah, I did. I have three kids and it’s just me. He can think we’re husbands and he can come live me and I don’t know, he can clean up, do the laundry or even prepare meals. I’ll figure out something to do with him,” Louis says. 

“Why are you doing this? He has done nothing to you.”

“Cornering someone in the locker room and making them the laughing stock of the entire school for years just because they’re gay isn’t nothing. He’s an asshole.”

“So you want him near your kids?”

“He thinks they’re his kids.”

“So he torments you in high school and you’re going to torment him in adulthood?”

“I’m not tormenting him.”

“No you’re not,” Nick agrees. “You’re just taking advantage of the fact that he doesn’t remember anything from his life and that means he doesn’t know he’s not married to you and he doesn’t know that he doesn’t have nine kids.”

“I have three kids, Nick. Three.”

“Whatever,” Nick says, waving his hand in the air. “That’s not the point. What happens when he remembers? What then?”

“Then he remembers I’m nothing to him and he leaves but in the meantime he thinks this is his life and I’m going to get as much out of it as I can,” Louis says defiantly. 

Nick looks at him sadly, shaking his head, before letting out a deep sigh. “All right. You’re making a mistake but I know there isn’t any talking you out of this so what do we need to do to make this believable?” 

“I need to buy him clothes and other stuff so it looks like he’s been living there. It needs to look like he has his own stuff,” Louis says. “Come on, we’re going shopping.”

~~~ 

“Daddy why so many clothes?”

Louis’ drops the bags of the clothes that he’s carrying on top of his bed and looks down at Liam who is staring up at him expectantly. 

“Um…well, Daddy had to buy these,” Louis says as way of explanation. 

“Why?” Liam asks. 

Louis looks at his son and realizes that now would be the time to tell him about Zayn, not even that Liam would understand, but his children need to know some kind of explanation as to why a stranger is going to be coming into their lives. Louis bends down and picks Liam up so he can set him on the bed next to bags he just dropped off. 

“Daddy needs to tell you something, but I need to get your brothers.”

Liam nods his head and puts his hands in his lap, turning his head away from Louis and towards the door when they hear a commotion in the hallway. Louis follows his son’s gaze and sees Nick stumbling into his bedroom with Harry clutching his leg while he tries to balance shopping bags on his arms, Niall following closely behind the two. 

“Harry, Niall can you both come and sit down? Daddy needs to talk to you.”

Nick slumps down on the floor the minute Harry let’s go of his legs. “Oh my god, thank you.” 

“Are we in trouble?” Niall asks, lifting Harry up and putting him on the bed, and then settling down next to him. “Mrs. Hamilton is a liar.”

“What? No, you’re not. What did you do to Mrs. Hamilton?” Louis asks. “You know what. I don’t care. Okay listen up, we are going to be having someone come and live with us.”

“Are we getting a dog?” Niall asks. 

“Daddy, I don’t want a dog,” Harry says. 

“We are not getting a dog. It’s a person, he’s going to um be staying here for the foreseeable future.”

“Is it your friend, Daddy?” Harry asks. 

“He…well you could say that, um, he’s…yeah he’s a friend.”

“He’s a good friend,” Nick adds from the doorway. 

“Why is he staying here?” Niall asks. 

“That’s not important,” Louis says. “What’s important is that he is going to be staying here and I need you all to treat him like he were family.”

“What his name?” Liam asks. 

“That’s a good question, um, he, well his name is—“ 

“It’s Poppy,” Nick says.

Louis whips around and looks at his boss slash best friend with wide eyes and wonders what the hell Nick is doing. 

“Poppy?” Harry tests with a giggle. “That’s silly.”

“Why is his name Poppy?” Niall asks. “Sean’s new Dad, the one who lives with him, they call him that sometime, but usually they call him Pop.”

“Well he kind of is your new Dad,” Nick says. 

Louis’ whips around and looks at each of his children faces; Niall’s mouth has dropped open, Harry is looking up at Niall, trying to figure out what to do, while little Liam stares up at him in confusion. Louis turns around and stomps towards Nick, grabbing him by the shirt collar and dragging him out of the room. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Louis asks as he closes his bedroom door behind them. 

“What the fuck am I doing?” Nick retorts. “You’re bringing in a man suffering from amnesia and you think it’s okay to lie to him because he was a prick to you over ten years ago, and you ask me what the fuck I’m doing? If you don’t want you kids involved then you should have fucking thought about that first. I saved your ass in there.”

“You told my kids they have a new father, they don’t understand what that means.”

“Niall does, he was talking about how his friend has a new dad.”

“Yeah and his friends biological father died, his mother got remarried and now he has a new father. Niall was just questioning me last night about being sick because you went off and told him I’m in the hospital. My son is in there, more than likely, thinking I’m going to die. You need to think before you speak, do you understand?”

“I need to think? Louis, you told a man who just got out of a coma that you were his husband.”

“He’s a thirty year old man and he’ll get over it eventually. It’s not going to last forever, but those are children; a ten, five and a four year old.”

“Alright, alright,” Nick says, holding his hands up in the air in surrender. “I wasn’t trying to scare them. I just thought if you’re going to act like he’s your baby Daddy then your kids couldn’t call him Zayn. If you want this to work then he needed a name. It’s not as obvious as Papa but it works.” 

Louis sighs, shaking his head in agreement. “You’re right, you didn’t handle it right but your logic is right. Just let me handle this, okay? I’ll take it from here. We’ll talk about this later. You can go home now.”

Nick nods his head and pats Louis on the shoulder as he makes his way down the hallway towards the exit. Louis knows that he’s making the quiet departure in order to avoid the part where Harry forces him to give out hugs. 

Louis takes a deep breath before pushing open his bedroom door and going back to his children. They’re sitting on his bed, expressions much the same as they were before. 

“Dad, what’s going on?” Niall asks. 

“Uncle Nick, he didn’t express that correctly. I know what you’re thinking and I’m fine, Daddy’s fine. Zayn…Poppy,” Louis corrects, “has been in the hospital this past week and he doesn’t have family right now so we’re going to be his family for him. He’s sick and he just needs a place to go that isn’t a hospital.” 

“Does he have a fever?” Harry asks. “He needs medicine.” 

“He doesn’t have medicine or need medicine. He just needs—“

“Cuddles,” Harry shouts with his little fist in the air. “He needs cuddles.” 

“Family,” Liam mumbles. 

Louis smiles. “Yeah and we’re going to be his family.”

~~~ 

The next morning Louis and Nick leave work early in order to go and pick up Zayn and the kids. Nick obviously had picked up Niall and Harry from school and Liam from Mrs. Hamilton’s while Louis goes to the hospital for Zayn. 

It’s easy to get Zayn out of the hospital. He waits while the raven-haired boy signs the paperwork and changes into the pair of clothes that Louis brought him. The nurses wish the two luck after they inform Zayn they’ll be thinking of him and praying he gets his memory back. 

The drive home is quiet. Zayn keeps to himself, looking of the window while he tugs on the bottom of his shirt. Louis had guessed his sizes right because Zayn had stepped out of the hospital bathroom everything had fit him perfectly. He tried not to act too smug at that fact because these are supposed to be clothes that Zayn had previously owned, not clothes that Louis picked out in haste to convince a man they were really married. 

“Home sweet home,” Louis says, turning into the driveway. He pulls it up to the garage door and puts the car in park before shutting it off and pulling the keys from the ignition. 

“It looks…small,” Zayn says, staring out of the window up at the house. “You said we have four kids?”

“Three,” Louis corrects, shaking his head because no one can ever seem to remember how many children he actually has. “There are three bedrooms. The master bedroom, obviously, Niall’s bedroom and then Harry and Liam share.”

“Niall,” Zayn tests. “I still don’t understand where we got that name from.”

“They’re all named strong names. The meanings of their names all exude power, and when choosing their names I wanted ones they could live up to like their father,” Louis says with a smile knowing that he and his children’s names all relate to some kind of warrior or champion. “Who cares about names, come on. They’re going to be inside waiting for us.” Louis steps out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him while he walks around to the other side. 

Zayn gets out slowly, eyeing the house in front of him and the bikes in the grass. Louis leads the way up to the front door with Zayn following close behind.

“Are you ready to meet your kids?” Louis asks, hand on the doorknob while Zayn looks around at the house and the yard. He watches as the boy turns to look at him, taking a deep breath before nodding his head.


	7. Chapter 7

Zayn watches Louis swing the front door open and feels a wave of nerves and anxiety rush through his body as the brunette boy props the door open with one hand and waves the other to show that he wants Zayn to walk through first. Zayn takes a deep breath before taking the short steps it takes to make it from exterior to interior. 

The inside of the house is small, but quaint, with polished wood flooring, a staircase to the right of the front door with a bathroom at the bottom. He’s standing in the living room with a big cushiony couch in the center with blankets thrown over the back of it, a smaller couch next to it stacked with pillows and stuffed animals. There are two small chairs on the opposite side, next to the windows, that create a little square niche with a table in the center and a television pressed against the back wall. There are toys scattered across the floor, trickling into what he can only assume is a dining room because of the table and chairs, but the table is covered in paper and crayons. He can see every room of the main floor standing at the door, including part of the kitchen. 

It’s just as small as Zayn expected it to be when he was sitting in the car out front. He assumes that the bedrooms are on the second floor, and hopefully another bathroom because there is no way he plans on sharing a bath with another man and five children, maybe four. He has no idea how many kids live in this house.

Fuck, Zayn thinks, rubbing his hand along his face. He doesn’t remember how many children he has, and he doesn’t want to ask Louis again because he just told him out in the car. He can’t even remember their names. But then again a few short days ago he couldn’t even remember his own name or who he was and where he came from so he thinks he’s allowed a momentarily lapse of forgetfulness when it comes to other people.

Zayn jumps at the sound of the door closing behind him and turns to see Louis kicking off his shoes and smiling up at him. 

“Aren’t there kids in this house?” Zayn asks. 

Louis nods his head. “Nick has them. I’m going to assume since we can’t hear them that they’re out in the backyard. Have a seat and I’ll go holler for them.”

Zayn watches Louis disappear behind the corner as he makes his way over towards the couch. He doesn’t sit down but instead leans against the back of it and watches the place that Louis came from. 

It takes several minutes before Louis returns with three small children and a tall lanky brunette that appears a few years older than the two of them. He stops for a second to look at Zayn, offering a small smile before he begins walking again and leaves the home entirely. 

“Um, who was that?” Zayn asks, turning away from the front door and back to Louis. 

“My boss and friend, Nick. He was watching these guys while I got you out of the hospital,” Louis says, adjusting the small boy in his arms. The little boy has sandy brown hair and big brown eyes that are staring up at Zayn with fear and confusion in his eyes. The little boy looks nervous, resting his head on his father’s shoulder, pulling his arm under his chin. “This is Liam,” Louis says, bouncing the child. 

Liam turns his head away, brushing it into Louis’ chest. It’s odd but Zayn can’t blame him for being frightened and uneasy because he’s just as freaked out about the entire situation. 

“Hi Poppy.” 

Zayn glances down and sees the curly-haired child in the middle waving at him. 

“My name is Harry,” he says, tucking his arm behind is back and smiling up at Zayn with all his teeth showing.

“Poppy?” Zayn asks, looking up at Louis. 

Louis shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, Poppy. And this is Niall.” 

Niall is oldest Zayn reckons since he’s the tallest. He has shaggy blonde hair and startlingly blue eyes with rosy cheeks. He’s cute and quiet, but his hesitation isn’t from fright or worry like Liam’s, Zayn assumes that his hesitation is because he doesn’t want to talk to him. 

“Three kids,” Zayn says, shaking his head. “Is there more?”

“No just the three like we talked about,” Louis explains. “It’s getting late so I’m going to start dinner and you three can get to talking. Actually, Niall can you help me in the kitchen?”

Louis sets the littlest one down; Zayn can’t remember his name for the life of him even though he just learned it. He thinks it might be something like Luke or maybe it’s Lee, something that begins with an L. He can’t remember, but Louis sets him down and motions for the blonde to follow him before he disappears into the kitchen. 

Zayn feels the nerves intensify as he stares down at the two small children in front of him. 

“So,” Zayn says, wringing his hands out in front of his body. “How old are you guys?”

“He’s four and I’m five,” the one Zayn remembers to be Harry says. At least he remembers one. “How old are you?” 

“Your dad said I was thirty or something like that,” Zayn says with a shrug. “I’m the same age as him.” 

“Oh you’re real old too then,” Harry says. “Not as old as our grandma and grandpa but a little old.” 

Zayn smiles down at him and shrugs his shoulders, unsure of how to respond to the statement. 

“Why is your name Poppy?” Harry asks. “It’s a silly name.” 

“It’s not Poppy, it’s Zayn.” 

“No, it’s not,” Harry replies. “You have a silly name like Daddy. Daddy has two names but we’re not allowed to say his other name only Daddy. So you’re not Zayn, you’re Poppy.”

“That’s what I keep hearing,” Zayn says. 

“You’re allowed to call me Harry.”

“What?”

“I can be called Harry. I don’t have a different name like you and Daddy.”

“Why is your name Harry?” Zayn asks. 

“I don’t know because I’m a little boy.” 

“What about that one peeking behind you?” Zayn asks as he points over towards the one standing behind Harry. “Why does he have his name?” 

“Poppy, that’s Liam, ‘member? He’s the baby. We call him Liam or sometimes Li or Lili because he’s the baby and Lili is a baby name.” 

“He’s a year younger than you,” Zayn points out, thinking it’s not fair for Liam to be considered the baby when he’s barely any younger than Harry. 

Harry’s little forehead furrows, his eyebrows bunching together as he stomps his foot on the ground. “Poppy, he’s the baby. Tell him you’re sorry.” 

“I’m sorry, Liam,” Zayn says. 

Harry’s face breaks out into a smile again as he rushes forward to wrap himself around Zayn’s legs. “I’m so happy you’re here, Poppy. We’re going to cuddle later, okay?” 

~~~ 

“This is my, I mean, our bedroom,” Louis says, pushing open the door at the far end of the hall. 

They’ve just put all three of the kids to bed, Louis showing Zayn their nightly rituals before bed and how to get each boy ready accordingly. 

Niall is the easiest given that he can do most of it himself while Harry and Liam need help taking their baths and brushing their teeth correctly. Then it’s about getting them dressed in their pajamas and reading them a quick story before hugs and kisses. 

Louis and Zayn’s bedroom is plain compared to the rest of the house. It has simple white walls with a mound of laundry in the corner along with a dresser and a closet and bathroom. The bed is in the center, unmade and large. 

“I’ll grab you some pillows,” Louis says, grabbing two of the four on the bed and tucking them underneath his arm. “Would you want the couch or Niall’s bed? I can’t speak for Niall’s bed but the couch is very comfortable.” 

“We’re married and we don’t sleep in the same room?” Zayn asks. “I don’t understand. Are we having problems?”

“No,” Louis says, shaking his head. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to sleep in here so you could easily take Niall’s bed and he can take Harry’s and Harry can share with Liam, which he does every night anyway until they come in here. Do you want to sleep in here?”

“I really don’t want to sleep on the couch,” Zayn says. “I also don’t want to put a child out of his bed. Do you want me to sleep some place else?” 

“Zayn, it really doesn’t matter to me,” Louis says, tossing the pillows in his hand back on the bed. “We’ll both sleep in here, okay? It’s no big deal. The kids will be in here before morning just so you know.” 

“They, um, still sleep in here?” Zayn asks, tugging at his shirt, and feeling incredibly nervous at that thought. 

“Yes,” Louis says slowly, crawling under the blankets. “Usually Harry wakes up Liam and they come in here and a few hours before morning Niall wakes up to go to the bathroom and instead of going back into his bed he comes in here.” 

“Aren’t they a little old for that?” 

Louis doesn’t get a chance to answer because Harry’s little body comes running into the bedroom, diving up on the bed and wrapping himself around Louis. 

“I forgot to tell you I love you, Daddy,” Harry says as Louis wraps his arms around him. Harry pulls away, giving Louis a quick peck before saying, “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Louis says, letting go of Harry and helping him off the bed. 

Harry bounds forward, wraps himself around Zayn’s legs for the second time today. “I love you, Poppy,” Harry says. 

“Um,” Zayn says, staring up at Louis. “That’s…that’s nice.” 

Zayn pats Harry on the back a couple times before he runs out of the room just as quickly as he came. 

~~~ 

Zayn settles into bed next to Louis, keeping a fair distance between them as he lies back on the mattress. It feels weird lying in bed next to someone he doesn’t remember knowing before a few days ago in a bed that he doesn’t remember with children down the hall that he doesn't remember. 

He feels out of place in this house. He doesn’t know if it’s because he can’t remember a time where he was apart of it or if it’s something more. Niall had spent most of the night ignoring him and watching him closely while Harry hung onto his every word. Liam showed no signs of wanting Zayn around. 

“Does Liam not like me?” Zayn asks after a moment. “He was really shy and was acting afraid of me. Is our relationship bad?” 

“Liam’s just quiet. He talks when he needs to and sometimes he gets a bit shy. I told them you were sick instead of saying what actually happened. I think he’s just being cautious because he believes that you’re ill,” Louis explains. 

“I’m perfectly healthy,” Zayn says defensively. “I just can’t remember anything.” 

“I know that and you know that but he’s four years old. He wouldn’t understand what it means to lose your memory and not remember anyone. He’s too young to understand but he understands being sick. I know this is hard for you but you really need to loosen up when it comes to my kids.”

“I just don’t want people thinking—wait. What did you call him?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You said my kids.” 

“I, uh, I don’t think I did,” Louis says. 

“You don’t have to think you did because I know you did. Do you always claim ownership of them when we fight? Or is this something new because I don’t remember them?” Zayn asks, folding his arms over his chest. 

“I slipped up. People say my kids all the time and no one tries to bite their head off.”

“How many of those people can’t remember their own children and hear someone who is supposed to be their husband deny them as a parent when arguing about them? My guess would be only me, which means that you do this a lot or you’re just being a jerk.” 

“I’m not being a jerk to you,” Louis says. “I messed up. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you feelings. I was just saying something and I didn’t think. I wasn’t trying to making a subtle jab at the fact you lost your memory, I promise.”

“I’m sure you weren’t, but it’s not very fair. How would you feel if I called them my children instead of our children?” 

“Oh my god, you’re being ridiculous. You always have been. You’re always making things difficult and complicated.” 

Zayn opens his mouth to reply but closes it promptly. He doesn’t know what Louis’ words mean but they leave an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wonders how horrible he has been to Louis, and possibly the children for Louis to claim to always be difficult and complicated. 

“It’s been a long day, let’s just go to sleep instead of arguing, okay?”

Zayn nods his head as he reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp. He rolls over so he’s lying on his side, facing away from Louis, and pulls the blanket up to his chin. He feels cold all over at Louis’ words. 

“I’m sorry for what I said. It’s not your fault that you can’t remember. You’re difficult either. Sometimes I just say things,” Louis says as he shuts off the lamp on his side of the bed. “We’ll be better in the morning.”


	8. Chapter 8

Zayn wakes up to the sun seeping in through the windows, and a little hand resting on his cheek. He blinks open his eyes, trying to get his vision into focus so he can figure out what the weight is against his chest, and whose finger is almost in his eye. He looks around and sees Louis on the other side of the bed with the little one, Liam, curled up in a ball on his pillow with his feet resting on Louis’ chest. It’s Niall’s hand that’s on his face; he’s laid out, taking up most of the center of the bed with his face a few inches from Zayn’s. He looks down and sees that it’s Harry who is laid out across his abdomen with his head pressed into Niall’s stomach, and his feet hanging off the side of the bed. 

He sighs, realizing that he can’t possible stretch or even get out of bed with a little body on top of him. He looks around and struggles with how he and Louis do this every morning and every night. They probably never have any time together or for themselves with three small children in the house, and three small children that pile into their bed every night. It's no wonder they had a little fight the night before. 

Zayn thinks about the fight, feeling a bit of resentment for the words Louis spewed at him. He knows that he doesn’t remember the kids, he doesn’t remember Louis, he doesn’t even remember himself, but he didn’t like Louis throwing it back in his face and denying him of something that would be his if his memory was okay. He wishes that his memory would correct itself; he wants to be able to remember his marriage to Louis and their three sons. Maybe if he could remember Niall and Liam wouldn’t be so afraid to talk to him. The only person in the house who seems to have accepted Zayn’s memory loss, and his presence in the house is Harry. 

Zayn wonders what kind of husband, what kind of father he was before the accident to have everyone in the house not want anything to do with him. It leaves a low ache in his chest to know that he has to work to remember and to work to get his family comfortable with him again. 

Zayn doesn’t remember, but he knows, deep down he knows that he was a good father, probably, most likely, he hopes so anyway. 

“Poppy?” Zayn hears someone whisper. He looks down and sees Harry lifting his head off the mattress, struggling to turn his body around so he can look at Zayn. “Poppy, are you sleeping?”

“I’m not sleeping,” Zayn says, reaching down to help Harry get adjusted. He ends up with Harry’s face in his neck and body laid out across his properly. He can feel Harry’s feet digging into his thighs as he kicks his feet about. 

“We forgot to cuddle before bed,” Harry says as he attempts to wrap his arms around Zayn’s neck. “We have to cuddle now, okay?”

“You’re very…cuddly,” Zayn says, struggling with whether or not to wrap his arms around the small boy. He figures it’s okay to do so since apparently Harry is his own child. He hears Harry let out a happy sigh when Zayn finally pulls Harry into a cuddle. 

“When Daddy wakes up he’ll cuddle too. Daddy’s favorite is cuddles.”

Zayn nods his head, making a note that Harry is affectionate and cuddly. He also makes a note that Louis is an apparent cuddler too. He wants to make sure that he can memorize this information, tattoo it to his brain so he won’t forget it. He wants to relearn as much as possible about every person lying in this bed. 

“Poppy, I’m hungry,” Harry whispers. “Can we wake everyone up now?”

“No,” Zayn says, shaking his head and patting Harry on the back. “But we could go downstairs and make everyone breakfast. Can you help me with breakfast?”

Harry lifts his head, his eyes lighting up at the suggestion. “I’m the very best helper, ever.”

Zayn makes a note of that too. 

~~~ 

“Well what do I do while you’re at work?” Zayn asks, watching as Louis gets dressed in his work clothes. 

“You stay here,” Louis says; tugging up his pants, button them once they’ve reached his hips. 

“Oh,” Zayn says. “I don’t work?”

Louis pauses putting on his shoes to look at Zayn. “Um, no. You don’t work. You stay here and take care of Liam, and the house and stuff. I take Harry and Niall to school every morning, and the bus will drop them off in the afternoon. I’m usually back from work before them, but if not then I shouldn’t be too much later. Liam will need a nap after lunch. He won’t tell you that he’s tired, but he needs one and he’ll go to sleep without a fight. Harry gets one at school, but he and Niall will probably want an after school snack. If I’m not back before they get home and they want to play outside just make sure that you’re out there with them. Just the normal stuff when it comes to children.” 

“Liam doesn’t like me,” Zayn whispers, thinking about the way Liam acted when he walked through the front door, and the way he stared at him during breakfast. At least Niall had managed a smile and a thank you when he sat down to eat his meal. Harry, of course, was beyond thrilled with Zayn for making them a meal, even though he had helped make it, mostly by telling Zayn what everyone likes and how they like it. 

He learned that Liam likes toast and will only eat his eggs if they’re scrambled. But he’d rather eat a small bowl of fruit with his toast and not eggs. Harry will eat anything for breakfast as long as there is a banana on the side. He told Zayn that all he wanted was a banana for breakfast but Zayn felt like he’d be a bad parent if he hadn’t made Harry eat something with a little more sustenance to get him through the school day, which is why Harry was forced to eat toast like Liam. Niall, Zayn found out, is the easiest to please out of the three. He’ll eat almost anything that you give him, but according to Harry ‘he turns into a grumpy over fruits’. Harry didn’t mention anything about Louis’ eating habits besides, ‘lots and lots of tea. Daddy loves teas.’

“Liam likes you,” Louis says, standing up and straightening out his clothes. “He’s just quieter than Niall and Harry, especially Harry.” 

“Yeah I noticed Harry talks a lot, and he’s quite…loving. He woke up this morning and kind of latched onto me in some kind of cuddle.”

“Yeah, he tends to get clingy in the mornings. He’s affectionate. He’s always been demanding when it comes to love. He used to growl when he was a baby and he wanted to be kissed but you weren’t kissing him or when he wanted to be held,” Louis says fondly. 

“He’s sweet,” Zayn says, struggling to find an appropriate word for Harry. “But that still doesn’t tell me what I’m supposed to do all day with Liam.”

“You can do anything you like. Watch TV all day or clean the kitchen. Take a bath or do some laundry. I don’t really care what you do. There is a lot of stuff to do in the house, and Liam will keep himself occupied. He’s…Liam is an easy child. He’s sweet, quiet, and really gentle. You’ll figure out, I mean, you’ll remember how to deal with each of them as the days progress.” 

“Maybe,” Zayn says, feeling a little hopeless. 

“You’ll do great. I wrote my number down for you since you, um, probably don’t remember it, and you don’t have a phone, but we have a house phone, so you can call me if anything happens or if you want me to come back. Nick won’t really mind.”

Zayn watches Louis leave their bedroom, following closely behind him as he makes his way downstairs to leave for work. 

~~~ 

Zayn would be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified in this very moment, standing alone in the living room and staring at a small four-year-old child who is hiding behind the couch, staring at him. 

It’s been a few hours since Louis left for work and Liam has yet to stop hiding from Zayn. As soon as the door closed behind Louis Liam had run off to the other side of the living room, burrowing his body behind the furniture and sticking his head out from around the corner to watch Zayn. He’s tried talking to him but every time he acknowledges Liam’s existence the little boy seems to cower back into the corner further. 

Zayn sighs, standing up from the chair and heading into the kitchen, figuring that maybe making Liam’s lunch will help with getting the little boy to open up to him. He steps into the kitchen, thankful that he cooked breakfast and has some vague knowledge on where things are in this room. 

He’s not sure what Liam likes yet, but he figures another small bowl of fruit wouldn’t hurt since it’s healthy and he seemed to have enjoyed it for breakfast. He winds up making a little cheese sandwich as well, hoping that Liam will like it, and eat it. He puts it all onto a little plate and pours Liam a little glass of milk. He grabs it all, carrying it back into the living room. 

Liam ducks down when he sees Zayn coming. Zayn ignores him, choosing instead to set down the little plate and cup on the table next to the couch. 

“I made you lunch,” Zayn says as he takes a step back. “You can eat it if you’d like, but can you maybe let me know somehow when you’re finished so I can put you to bed for your nap?”

With that being said, Zayn leaves the living room, leaves the food and Liam behind, so he can go into the kitchen and clean up the mess he just made and the one he made from breakfast. He peeks over his shoulder as he’s walking away and sees Liam crawling out from behind the couch and kneeling down in front of the table to begin eating his lunch. 

It’s almost twenty minutes later before Zayn hears movement again from where he left Liam. He sets down the cloth he was using to wipe the cabinets and peeks out into the living room. 

Zayn watches Liam, from inside the kitchen, crawl up onto the couch and snuggle into one of the pillows for what can only be his nap. Zayn is glad and grateful that Liam didn’t retreat back into hiding after eating his lunch and is instead laying out in the open. Zayn watches him for a moment longer before deciding that he should maybe try cleaning up the house a bit, quietly though so he doesn’t wake up Liam. 

~~~ 

Zayn’s sitting alone in he and Louis’ room, his elbows on his knees, resting his head in his hands, trying to get a moment alone. He’s tired and worn out, the day taking it’s toll on his body. Every thing feels more complicated since he can’t remember. He knows how to do basic functions and how to work things, but he doesn’t remember where anything is in the house, and the mental strain of trying to remember, forcing his body to try and latch onto something, has left him exhausted. 

His silence is cut short when he hears, “Poppy? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Zayn looks up and sees Niall standing in the doorway, his head peeking out from behind the door, looking at Zayn nervously. 

“Yeah,” Zayn says, straightening up. “What’s going on?”

“Um, I don’t know,” Niall says, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Okay,” Zayn says, nodding his head. “Well what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Well, um, I don’t want to be rude but why were you in the hospital? Daddy said you were and you were sick. Are you going to be okay?”

Zayn stares at Niall and can see that the little boy looks a little terrified as he asks the question, whether it’s terrified of Zayn or what Zayn’s answer will be he doesn’t know. 

“I’m going to be fine. I just…” Zayn stops, struggling with whether or not he should tell Niall. He doesn’t know if he can explain it properly if Niall has questions or if he should lie. He doesn’t think it’d be fair to Niall to tell him anything but the truth. “I don’t—I don’t have a memory. I woke up and couldn’t remember anything and your Daddy, well…I just can’t remember much.”

“Oh,” Niall says, his shoulders dropping down in relief. “I’m glad you’re not going to die.”

Zayn laughs lightly. “Yeah me too.” 

“If you need help remembering I can help you. I might not remember everything, but two memories are better than one, right?”

“Right,” Zayn says, smiling and feeling relief that one more person in the house is speaking to him.


	9. Chapter 9

“We really need to get laundry done,” Louis says, racing around the breakfast table, shoving random bits of food in his mouth since he’s running late and doesn’t think he’ll find time to actually sit down and enjoy the meal he had Zayn make. “There is a pile of clothes in Liam and Harry’s room that is getting out of control, and they also might need their sheets cleaned. I can’t remember the last time I did it, but Liam peed in his bed last night so it has to be done today otherwise he’s sleeping in our bed all night instead of just for half of it. I really need some more work shirts cleaned, because I’m running low, and Niall has worn the same pair of socks the last three days.” 

“All right, I get it,” Zayn says, setting down his cup of tea. “I’ll get to that today after Liam’s nap.” 

“The kids bathroom also needs to get done, because Harry squeezed an entire tube of toothpaste into the basin.”

“I did not,” Harry says with a frown. “Niall told me to do that.”

“Hey, tattletale,” Niall says, sticking his tongue out at Harry.

“I don’t really care who did it or why, but it’s not going to happen again,” Zayn says, giving the two of them a stern glance. 

“Anyway,” Louis says, giving Zayn an odd look, because he just disciplined his children, and a part of him wants to tell Zayn off for doing something that he has no right doing, but then he remembers that he can’t, because Zayn thinks he’s a father to these boys. So, Louis swallows it all. “Please clean the bathroom today, and maybe the kids toys as well, because they’re all over the living room.”

“Wow, anything else?” Zayn asks rhetorically. 

“Yeah, can you make pasta for dinner? I’ve got a craving.”

“Are you kidding me? Louis, I won’t be able to remember all of that. Do you have any idea how many things you just listed off? How am I supposed to find to do all of that?” Zayn asks, staring at Louis incredulously. 

“Zayn, you’re at home all day with Liam, I’m sure you can fit some of this stuff in, okay? I’ve got to get to work now,” Louis says, grabbing his wallet and keys. “Harry, Niall, give out kisses and let’s go.”

~~~ 

When Louis gets into work he’s immediately bombarded with questions from Nick. He doesn’t even get the chance to clock in, because Nick is grabbing him by the arm and dragging him down the hallway and throwing him into his office. He shouts at some employees to leave them alone before slamming the door closed and turning to look at Louis. 

“Well, how is it?” Nick asks, walking around his desk and dropping down into his chair. 

“How’s what?”

“How’s what? Are you joking?” Nick asks, rolling his eyes at Louis. “How’s married life? What’s it like at home with the husband and kids?” 

It’s Louis’ turn to roll his eyes now, because for someone who was so against the idea of using Zayn and pretending that they’re married, but now he’s practically shaking from wanting to hear information about the happenings in Louis’ household. “Zayn is fine. Everyone at home is just fine.”

“How are the kids? Do they like him?” Nick asks, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet on the desk. 

“Harry does, but Harry tends to like everyone, and everything. Niall and him have been talking a bit more lately. He was kind of shy around him at first, but I talked to him about it and told him about what happened to Zayn, and how he’s going through a hard time and how much it would mean to me if he could be nice.”

“And the little one?”

“Liam doesn’t seem to care much for him. He hides from him when I’m not there, and avoids him when I am. I don’t know what it will take for Liam to like him,” Louis says with a sigh. “He’s so shy, and I really don’t know what to make of it all, because I think it’s really bothering Zayn, but I don’t know what to do. Everything else is working out fine.” 

“Liam is the one with the staring problem, right? Seems like it’s not really just Zayn. I mean, I’ve been coming around for ages and all he does is look at me. I told you that you should take him to see a doctor.”

“Oh, Jesus. He doesn’t have anything wrong with him. He’s just shy. He’s not comfortable with strangers. You’re not around everyday. You know what? I’m not going to talk about Liam anymore with you. You always insult him,” Louis says, feeling anger spread throughout his body. 

“Okay, okay,” Nick says, holding his hands up in surrender. “I won’t talk about him anymore. I just worry. But do you think Zayn likes it there?”

“He hasn’t complained,” Louis says with a shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, he probably doesn’t like that he can’t remember anything, but he wouldn’t really be able to remember anything even if he wasn’t at my house. If I hadn’t of said anything then he would still be in the hospital, and we’d still be seeing him on the news everyday.” 

“So you think you did him a favor?”

“I don’t think I did him anything, but he’s not complaining and neither am I.” 

“You’re not complaining…yet,” Nick says, giving Louis a look that says he knows this is all going to blow over at some point.

“I’m not complaining at all. I take Niall and Harry to work every morning and he stays at home with Liam. I don’t have to worry about Mrs. Hamilton falling asleep instead of watching him during the day. I’m at work and he’s at home watching my son, for no charge, and doing the laundry, and the dishes, and the cleaning. He’s doing it all. My house has never been this clean. He helps Niall out with his homework, and cooks dinner.” 

“So he’s basically your little built in servant.” 

“He’s not my servant. He’s free to do what he wants, but yeah, sometimes, I ask him to do things for me. I’ve been doing all of that stuff for a long time, years before Eleanor left and these past two years without her. I’m perfectly capable of doing these things on my own, but why should I? Zayn’s here and and as long as he can’t remember who I am to him and that my kids aren’t our kids then I’m going to ride this out as long as I can,” Louis says with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Nick says, lowering his feet off the desk and shaking his head. “You should really think about this.”

“Why? What do you mean?” Louis asks, confused.

“I’m just saying that you should probably think about how Eleanor walked out on your kids and didn’t look back, they’re related to her through blood. She carried them for nine months and mothered them for years, but Zayn… He has no ties to you, and there is nothing connecting him to you guys. He has no reason to stay when he figures out this whole scheme. I just want you to remember that your kids have been walked out on once. 

Louis ignores him, trying not to let the words seep in his mind. He doesn’t want to think about it.

~~~ 

Louis enters his house, expecting to find it better than how he left it. He had rattled off things for Zayn to do this morning, he’s sure of it, so he can’t understand why the first thing he sees when he walks in is a pile of laundry on the couch, and Liam and Harry’s toys thrown across the floor. 

Harry and Niall come running in behind him, Niall sitting down on one of the chairs and turning on the television while Harry begins calling out for Liam. Louis closes the door behind him and makes his way through the living room in search of Zayn. He finds him in the kitchen, pouring a glass of juice in a cup. 

“I see you didn’t have time to clean,” Louis says, leaning against the doorway to look at Zayn. 

“I had time,” Zayn says. “I just didn’t feel like doing it. I cleaned Liam and Harry’s sheets and Niall’s socks, and then I sat down and watched a movie with Liam.”

“Liam watched a movie with you?” Louis asks. 

“No, he didn’t. I turned on a children’s movie and angled the television towards the corner where he was hiding from me so he could have something to do instead of staring at me all day. I did the laundry and cleaned up from breakfast, and obviously took care of Liam. But everything else I left to do later or tomorrow or I don’t know maybe you could do them since you don’t really do much around here.”

“I don’t do anything? I have a job. I make the money. I’m the reason for this house and everything in it so pardon me, but I’m pretty sure I do a hell of a lot more than you do.”

“Are you honestly trying to tell me that I don’t do anything? Since I’ve gotten out of the hospital all I do is cater to you and do everything that you demand of me. I choose not to clean some of your shirts and pick up some toys and you decide to act like a dick?” Zayn says, shaking his head at Louis. He takes the cup, and makes his way past Louis and into the living room. He sets it down on the table and tells Niall that it’s Liam’s, because it’s been a while since he drank anything and to make sure that Liam drinks it. He ruffles Niall’s hair when he agrees before coming back into the kitchen. 

“I’m not being a dick,” Louis mutters. 

“Yes you are. You’re mad because I didn’t bother to clean our house, and clean up after the kids, but I can’t even remember the last time I’ve seen you do either of those things.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It has to do with everything,” Zayn shouts. “You make me do everything. You list off a little choir list for me every morning and expect me to get it all done by the time you get back. I’m tired, and I’d like a break. But mostly I would like a little help. I cook dinner for you and you can't even wash a dish.” 

“Oh wow, I help plenty. You have no right to complain about any of this. You have to clean for a few weeks and pick up after some kids for a few weeks and all of a sudden you’re crying about it. I’ve been cleaning up after children for ten years, and you don’t see me whining.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Zayn mutters, brushing past Louis and walking towards the stairs. 

~~~ 

“I’m sorry about arguing with you earlier,” Louis says, stepping into his bedroom to talk to Zayn. “I guess I shouldn’t let my temper get the best of me so I’m sorry.”

Zayn doesn’t answer; he changes his position on the bed so he’s no longer on his back but rather on his side so he’s not looking at Louis anymore. Louis sighs, taking a few more steps into the room so he’s closer to the bed. 

“Are you still mad at me?” Louis asks and Zayn doesn’t answer. “I’ll take that as a yes. Listen, Zayn, I know this might not mean anything but I do apologize. I shouldn’t have yelled at you for wanting a little help with something. I really don’t know why I got so angry about it. It was stupid, and you didn’t deserve to be yelled at. The boys are worried about you so if you want too maybe come back down and join us?”

“Liam hates me,” Zayn says finally. “He won’t even look at me. He spends the entire day hiding behind the couch, and he only comes out if I set food on the table and leave the room and then he crawls onto the couch and takes a nap. He’s been avoiding me at all costs, and I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong. Was I bad father before? Was I mean to him?”

“No, you’re not a bad father,” Louis says, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Zayn’s knees. 

“I feel horrible all the time, because I can’t get him to like me or to at least talk to me. I can’t remember anything. I don’t remember my parents names or if I have any siblings, and I can’t remember a thing about you or our children. I spend all day alone in this house, well, Liam is here but he ignores me, and I feel so alone. And then you come home and there is so much that I have to do, and it’s like, why can’t we do anything together. We never do anything together. I clean your dirty underwear, but you won’t help me with anything around the house,” Zayn says, rubbing at his eyes. “I couldn’t even remember my name, but I’m supposed to help Niall with his homework.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me that you felt this way?” Louis asks, feeling a little knot in his stomach at Zayn’s words. 

“I did when I yelled at you earlier, but you didn’t listen.”

Louis sighs. “Yeah people usually don’t listen when someone is screaming at them about a sink full of dishes.” 

“Oh god, don’t bring up the dishes,” Zayn groans. “I just don’t want to do everything. I just want help. Aren’t married people supposed to be equals? Can’t we divide the choirs and the homework, we divide who let’s Harry hang on them. Why can’t we divide the other stuff, too?” 

“You’re right, of course we can,” Louis says, nodding his head. “If you cook the dinner then I’ll clean up the dishes, and the kitchen.” 

“And I’ll do the laundry if you’re the one who brings it into the room instead of making me chase down everyone’s dirty wash.”

“That’s fair,” Louis says. “Anything else?”

“You have to do the shopping from now on since I’ve been in charge of making all the meals. I don’t want to buy the food if I have to cook it.”

“Okay, I can do that. I’ve been grocery shopping by myself for years, I think I can handle it again,” Louis says. 

“What does that mean?” Zayn asks, looking confused. 

“Nothing, it doesn’t mean anything,” Louis says, feeling a bit panicked, because if he has Zayn doing the shopping now then it wouldn’t make sense for him to have ever done the shopping before. “Is food shopping the last thing you want from me?”

“No,” Zayn says, pulling himself into a sit. “I also want you to tell me one thing everyday. It can be about me, or you, or one of the kids, but I want to learn something everyday. I need to be able to remember. I want to remember.”

“Yeah, all right,” Louis says, nodding his head, trying not to release the deep breath that’s waiting in his chest. He doesn’t know everything about Zayn, only the things from high school, and most of them probably change. He can tell Zayn anything he wants to know about himself or his kids, but about Zayn…well, that might be difficult. “I think you need a bath,” Louis says, standing up, trying to avoid any more conversation about the give and take of their fake marriage. He makes his way towards the attached bathroom. “You’re stressed, and I’m sorry that I didn’t notice it and that I haven’t been doing anything to stop it. I—I should have known better. This isn’t easy for you.” 

“No it’s not,” Zayn says, getting up off the bed and following Louis into the bathroom. He enters the room and leans against the counter, watching as Louis sits at the edge of the tub, fiddling with the knobs. “I just want to remember something, anything.”

“You will,” Louis says with a sigh. “The doctor said sometimes these things take a while, and it’ll happen when it’s the right time. Maybe your body doesn’t want to remember, maybe there is a reason you’re still forgetting everything.” 

“Maybe,” Zayn says with a shrug. “But I’d like if my mind could give me something.” 

“In the fourth grade you spent three months reading these Batman comics. You would bring them out with you during recess and you’d sit under this yellow slide the school had, and you’d read those comics while everyone else played around you. I don’t know if you ever finished them or if you could even understand what you were reading but for three months, every day, you had one in your lap. Afterwards you went on to read The Green Lantern,” Louis says, glancing up at Zayn briefly to see him staring with his mouth hung wide open. Louis shrugs and goes back to watching the tub fill with warm water.


	10. Chapter 10

Zayn continues cutting up slices of cucumber into little bite size pieces for Liam, thinking back to Louis’ admission the night before about Zayn when he was a child, it had stirred something inside of Zayn, created a little flicker of hope. He hadn’t remembered the memory on his own, but now he has something. He knows something about himself and his life, and it makes it a little more bearable to be stuck at home with a child that doesn’t pay him a speck of attention. 

Zayn feels like there is more hope now that he can remember, that he can find a memory floating around in his brain just waiting for him to realize it’s there. He still doesn’t like feeling like Louis is taking advantage of him, but he’s willing to help out around their house more if it means that Louis will work harder with helping his memory or providing Zayn clues about what kind of person he was. 

He finishes putting the vegetables onto Liam’s plate with everything else he’s having for lunch, picking up the plate to carry it into the living room. He sees Liam retreat further behind the couch, peeking out slightly to see what Zayn is doing. Zayn turns off the television and sets the food down on the table.

“Liam, your lunch is finished,” Zayn says, knowing that Liam won’t answer him. 

It’s become a routine that this is where Liam eats his lunch, because he doesn’t want Zayn to carry him to his room or for Zayn to help him up the stairs so the easier solution has been to feed him at the table so he can immediately curl up on the couch and take his nap. 

Zayn immediately retreats back into the kitchen where he watches as Liam crawls out from behind the furniture, sitting down on the floor to begin eating the food that Zayn made. Zayn watches Liam eat and realizes that while his main goal should be to get his memory back, he thinks that maybe he’d like to get Liam happy with him again more. 

~~~

“I need help,” Niall cries, dropping his face down onto the table, groaning into the wood. “I can’t do my homework. It’s too hard and I don’t want to do it anymore. I’ve already done my math. Dad, can I be finished?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Louis replies, barely looking up from the book he’s reading. 

“What’s your homework?” Zayn asks, scooting forward to get a better view at the work that Niall has. 

“We had to write a story, and I’m trying to write the story, but I wanted to put pictures with it, and I can’t draw,” Niall says, turning his face over on the table to look at Zayn. “I get extra points if I put pictures with it.”

“I could help you,” Zayn says, kneeling down on the floor next to Niall. “Do you want my help?”

“Yes, please,” Niall says, lifting his head off the coffee table. “Can you draw?”

Zayn shrugs, picking up one of the colored pencils off the table. “Tell me something to draw and I’ll see if I can do it.”

“My story is about a dog, he has floppy ears and three spots,” Niall instructs. 

Zayn nods his head and begins moving the pencil along the paper, working out the shapes that he needs in order to make it look like a dog. He opts for cartoon over realistic. He exaggerates the length of the floppy ears and creates a long, pointed tail that wraps around the dog and curls around the front of him. 

“Is this good?” Zayn asks, pushing the drawing towards Niall, feeling surprised at how natural that drawing had felt, and how good the result his of him drawing a silly little dog. 

“Wow,” Niall says, mouth dropping open as he stares at the little image that Zayn just drew for him. “You’re really good. Dad, look at how good Poppy is at drawing.” 

Louis leans forward and glances at the paper on the table, he smiles and nods his head, before leaning back. 

“Have I always been into drawing?” Zayn asks, noticing the way that Louis doesn’t seem surprised. 

“Yeah, you always used to carry around a note book and stuff so you could draw. I’ve only seen a few of them, because I think you like to keep them private, but you’ve always loved doing it from what I could tell,” Louis says. 

Zayn accepts it, and decides that he’ll snatch up one of the kid’s unused notebooks later in the evening and begin drawing again. He listens as Niall tells him other things to draw and what colors to make them, making sure to keep an ear open to listen to Niall’s words, but he can’t help but let his mind wander to the thought that he finally found something he used to do before he got amnesia. He wonders if drawing will help job his memory, and bring back something. People use art as therapy for people everyday, and it helps them in whatever issues they’re going through and maybe it’ll work for him. 

He begins drawing the image of the dog, over and over again as Niall tells him different scenes that the dog is shown in, while he continues to think about how he learned something new about himself. He remembers his deal that he made with Louis the night before, and how he agreed to tell Zayn one thing about himself every single day. He hopes this wasn’t the one thing, because in retrospect Zayn figured out his talent for art without Louis’ help. And he’s been dying to know something new about himself all day. 

He helps Niall for over twenty minutes before he remembers that there are other household duties that he has to take care of. 

“I’d love to finish helping you with this,” Zayn says, setting down the colored pencil in his hand. “But I have to go start dinner, maybe you can come in the kitchen as I can give you tips or help you from in there. Or maybe I can draw stuff later?”

“I guess,” Niall says, sighing. “Thanks for helping me.”

“I’ll get dinner tonight,” Louis says, standing up from the couch. He pats Zayn on the back before he stands on his toes, reaching his arms up towards the ceiling in a stretch. 

“Since when do you cook dinner?” Zayn asks, staring up at Louis. “I thought I was the resident chef around here. Every morning you’re telling me what to cook so I was under the impression that you weren’t capable.”

“Ha, ha that’s funny. But for your information, I decided that I’m going to be the chef tonight, and I’m going to make a stew. Besides, you’re helping Niall with his homework so I think I can manage.”

“Thanks,” Zayn says, smiling at Louis. 

~~~

“Louis?” Zayn says, entering the kitchen, seeing Louis standing behind the stove. 

“What’s up?” Louis asks, sprinkling spices into the pot, sniffing the air with a smile on his face as he continues to cook their dinner for the night. 

“I was just wondering if you could tell me something else, ya know, like you did last night? I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I just, well, I’d like to know as much as I can about myself since I don’t know anything. Could you tell me something else?” Zayn asks, sucking in his bottom lip as he looks at Louis. He feels oddly childish, standing in the middle of their kitchen, asking Louis to tell him a fact about himself, like he’s a young boy asking his father about when he was a baby. And maybe that is the case, because the little boy has all of his memories of being baby, but he can’t remember them, he can’t access those memories that a buried deep inside of him, because Zayn has an entire life packed inside of his brain and he can’t even scratch the surface of his mind to get one out. But Louis knows, he remembers Zayn. 

Louis sighs, setting down the spoon he was using to stir the pot on the counter. “What kind of thing do you want to know today?” 

“Just, I don’t know, something about me. Anything,” Zayn says, shrugging his shoulders. 

Louis nods his head, tapping his fingers along the counter top as he thinks. His eyes are squinted as he stares in front of him, and Zayn feels a little nervous as he waits. 

“Your first kiss was with a girl named Susan. It was at a party in the eight grade. She was in high school, and she was a bit taller than you so you had to stand on this big brick, and it was raining outside as well. I remember everyone at the party gathered around the window and watched it happen. You put your lips on hers and pulled away almost instantly, and wiped your mouth when she turned around. Later on I heard you tell someone that you thought kissing just all right, and that she kissed a bit like your grandma. It was junior year in high school the first time you kissed a boy. You did it in the locker room, in one of the far corners where you had to be in the right place to see you, and I happened to be in the right place. You were furious that I had caught you. You made sure I knew that,” Louis says. 

“Thank you,” Zayn says with a smile. “I’m sorry I got angry with you, and for however I told you about it. I don’t—I wish I could remember it so I could tell you how I felt, but I guess we already made up about it since we’re married now, right? Anyway, thank you for telling me. It might be annoying to you, and I know that I already mentioned it to you how I want you to tell me one thing a day. I just think maybe this will help, maybe you’ll tell me something that helps me remember or I’ll get some kind of memory back. I don’t know. It’s probably stupid, isn’t it?”

“It’s not annoying or stupid. If you want me to tell you one thing a day then so be it. I agreed to it yesterday so I’ll tell you whatever I can,” Louis says with a casual shrug of his shoulders. 

“Okay, good. And thank you, again. I…yeah, thank you. I’m going to go and make sure Niall’s all good with his homework.” Zayn says, turning to leave the kitchen. 

He’s halfway towards the living room when he hears, “Oh, and your favorite color is green.”

Zayn stops and turns around to smile at Louis, making a mental note to remember that too, although he thinks he already knew that. 

~~~

“Poppy, are you going to read us a book?” Harry asks, allowing Zayn to pull the blankets up to his chin. 

Zayn glances over and sees Liam watching him closely, hiding behind the head of his teddy bear, fully under the blankets. He doesn’t look as scared as he normally does, but he also doesn’t look like he’s enjoying Zayn’s company. 

“Poppy, I need a story,” Harry says, shoving the blankets down and running over towards their little bookshelf. He squats down and examines the content of the shelf before grabbing one of the books and bringing it back to Zayn. “Read this one.” 

Zayn tucks Harry back into bed, before sitting in the rocking chair in the corner. He reads the children’s book, keeping his voice low and soothing as a way to try and lull Liam and Harry to sleep. He shows them the pictures attached to the pages every time that Harry says he loves that page. Liam keeps quiet, allowing Zayn to read the story as he plays with the ears of his bear. 

It takes him nearly fifteen minutes to finish the book, checking to see that both his children are staring at him, wide-awake. Zayn closes the book, standing up from the chair and making his way over towards the bookshelf to put it back. He tucks the book in between two more, before standing back up and turning to face the boys. “You got your story, now it’s time for bed, okay?”

“Poppy, we need kisses before we can sleep,” Harry says with a giggle. 

“Kisses, right,” Zayn says, taking a few short steps to Harry’s bed. Harry smiles at him before puckering his lips up for Zayn. Zayn leans down, and gives Harry a quick kiss. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Poppy,” Harry says, smiling at him one last time before closing his eyes. 

Zayn glances over and sees Liam staring at him, he hesitates for a moment before taking a few steps over towards Liam’s bed. He sees Liam’s eyes go wide as he slowly leans down, and presses his lips against Liam’s forehead. Liam lets the action happen, and when Zayn pulls away he looks up at him before immediately rolling over and squeezing his eyes shut tightly. 

“Good night, Liam,” Zayn says, releasing a deep breath at being allowed near Liam. 

He leaves the room quietly, closing the door almost completely before he hears Harry says, “I love Poppy, don’t you, Liam?”

Zayn doesn’t stay long enough to hear Liam’s response.


	11. Chapter 11

Zayn gets a phone call in the middle of the afternoon, Liam is just waking up from his nap, sitting on the couch, rubbing at his eyes when the house phone begins ringing. It’s the first time the phone has rung and it hasn’t been Louis calling to check on Liam and Zayn, but the ID doesn’t say Tomlinson, instead it says the name of the school that he knows Niall and Harry go to. He struggles with the decision on whether or not he should answer it, because would Louis want him answering the phone for the boys’ school when he doesn’t remember any information to give them, but as the shrill ring continues to penetrate the silence of the house Zayn finds himself reaching out and pressing the talk button before pressing the receiver to his ear. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, this is Sheila Hicks, the principal at Bagley Elementary and I’m calling to try and get in touch with Mr. Tomlinson about his son, Niall.” 

Zayn really wishes the woman would have said a name, because there are two Mr. Tomlinson’s and he feels little annoyed with the principal for assuming there was only one father in the household. Technically Zayn is also a Mr. Tomlinson; it’s not just Louis. “Yes, this is Mr. Tomlinson, I’m Niall’s father, is everything okay?”

“Well, yes, everything is fine, but there was a bit of a commotion during Niall’s recess time, and I was wondering if you could come down here as soon as possible so we talk about what happened. Niall is currently in the nurses’ office getting ice for a black eye, but I assure that he is okay. He’s going to be spending the rest of the school day in the administrative office, right outside of my door,” Ms. Hicks explains. 

“I—well, um,” Zayn pauses, realizing that he has no way of actually getting to the school to find out what happened to Niall. The principal says he has a black eye, but she’s calm, and it doesn’t sound like there is any kind of damages that he should be worried about. Zayn takes a deep breath and says, “I can be down there shortly, or my husband can. We’ll be down there shortly.”

Zayn hangs up the phone, and immediately dials the number from the notepad next to the phone that lists Louis’ cell and work phone. He tries Louis’ cell phone first, and listens as it rings on and on, going to voicemail every time he calls. He tries the work phone next, it immediately connecting to voicemail without any signs of a ring. And Zayn groans, because someone is needed at school, but Zayn has no way of getting there. He doesn't even know where Bagley Elementary is, but someone is needed at Niall’s school and Louis doesn’t seem to want to answer the phone anytime soon. 

Zayn tries to think of someone that can help them, anyone, and that’s when he remembers the older woman living in the house next door, Mrs. Hamilton. Louis had explained to him that she would be able to help if he needed it with Liam so maybe she can help with Niall. 

“Right,” Zayn mutters to himself, setting the phone back down and making his way into the living room where Liam is lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. He startles when he sees Zayn, sitting up immediately and staring at him with wide eyes. “Liam, we have to go and talk to Niall’s school. I know you don’t want to be around me, but I can’t leave you alone so will you please go with me?”

Liam doesn’t say anything, and Zayn takes his silence as affirmation that he’ll go. Zayn moves quickly, grabbing a pair of Liam’s shoes from next to the door, slipping them onto Liam’s feet before picking up the child and making his way towards the neighbors house. 

~~~ 

It takes Mrs. Hamilton almost twenty minutes to get them to Niall and Harry’s school, which in retrospect probably could have gone shorter if Zayn had just walked. The woman had spent most of the trip breaking for stop lights and waiting for all cars around the area to take turns until they were all gone. She had told Zayn several times that she never drives this slow but with a child in the car you can never be too cautious. 

When they finally get there Zayn thanks Mrs. Hamilton, and gently coaxes out of the car and into his arms. As the car rolls away Zayn turns around and examines the brown brick building before him, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen this building before, but then again he doesn’t think he’s seen anything before. He follows the path leading up to the entrance and rings the buzzer next to the door, informing the lady behind the speaker box that he’s the parent of Niall Tomlinson. 

Zayn breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that the administrative office is right next to the entrance of the building. He can see Niall sitting in a chair, looking down, and swinging his legs back and forth. He perks up when he sees Zayn, but a look of confusion flashes across his face for a moment.

“What are you doing here?” Niall asks, when Zayn finally permission to come inside and wait for the principal. “They said they were calling my dad.”

Zayn sets Liam down on the empty chair next to Niall, ignoring the way Liam seems to let out a deep breath at finally being released from Zayn’s grasp. “They called me and said that I needed to come down here. What happened? Why do you have a bruise on your eye?”

“It wasn’t my fault. We were playing and it was an accident, I swear,” Niall says. “They don’t believe me.”

“Who doesn't?” Zayn asks, getting his answer when the door directly to their right swings open and reveals an older woman, hair pulled tightly into a bun, wearing a dress suit the color of…well, honestly it reminds Zayn a little bit like vomit. 

“Niall, who is this?” The woman asks, and Zayn frowns. 

“This is Poppy,” Niall says. “He came instead of my dad, he was probably too busy with work. Was Dad busy?” 

“I tried calling him,” Zayn says. “But he didn’t answer.” 

“Ah, so you’re the one I spoke with on the phone. Very well, very well, please come inside,” the lady that Zayn assumes is Sheila Hicks says, waving her hand into the direction of her office. 

“Niall, please watch Liam. I should have left him with Mrs. Hamilton.” 

Zayn follows Sheila into the office, watching as she closes the door behind them and 

“So Poppy,” Sheila says, fixing a few papers on her desk. 

“That’s, no, my name is Zayn. The children just call me Poppy, it’s some kind of funky rendition on Papa or, so I assume anyway.” 

Sheila looks at him for a moment, appearing as though she’s trying to calculate something in her head. “You are Niall’s father?”

“Yes,” Zayn says, feeling a little confused. “I am, and I don’t really understand why I’m here. If you wanted to know about his parents I’m sure you could have called him instead of having me come all the way down here with a child.” 

“That’s not why I called you down here Mr. Tomlinson. I wanted to discuss with you an event that happened today during Niall’s recess. I don’t know the official story, but apparently there was an incident that caused Niall and another boy to get injured. Niall received his black eye when he fell, he was crying when I tried to get the story out of him so again, I don’t know any specifics. But the other boy claims that they were playing and Niall got very angry and charged at him and that Niall got his injury when the other boy held his hands up to protect his own face, but managed to connect one hand with Niall’s face. Both he and Niall have agreed that it wasn’t due to fighting, and like I said, I haven’t been able to get a story out of Niall. I figured that you, as his parent, would be able to talk with him, find out what happened and deal with an appropriate course of action to take care of the situation, and to prevent it from happening again.”

“Niall says that it wasn’t his fault, and it was an accident. If it was only an accident, which happens with children, then I’m sure it’s not something to worry about,” Zayn says. 

“Children tend to say a lot of things when they're being questioned by adults and facing the possibility of punishment. We’re not saying that Niall was the cause of this or that he’s a problem, but the other child is very adamant that Niall did it on purpose, and without proof or any of the teachers seeing there is no way to know if it was an accident or not,” the principal explains. “I just don’t want to see a child as bright as Niall picking up bad behaviors, and we, at the school, would really appreciate it if you would talk to Niall about this.” 

“How much longer until school is over?” Zayn asks, feeling annoyed and desperately wishing to leave the school, he doesn’t bother acknowledging anything the woman has just explained to him. He wants to go home, and he’d like to go now with all of his children. 

“Two more hours,” Sheila says. 

“Well, I’m signing Niall out, I don’t want him to be stuck sitting in the principals office all day when he should be in a classroom learning instead he’s forced to sit outside your door all day because you think he’s a delinquent, and I’d like to call Harry out as well. So if you could please kindly call him out that would be great,” Zayn says, smiling before standing up and exiting. 

~~~ 

It’s been hours since the event with the school, and Zayn can’t stop thinking about the principal, not the way she discussed Niall, but he momentary questioning of his relationship with Niall. She acted like she had never seen him before or that, at the very least, he’s never been the type of parent to bother showing up to school events. 

He had brought all three of the kids back home after their meeting, opting to walk the short distance instead of having to call upon Mrs. Hamilton since Louis was, yet again, not answering his phone when Zayn had asked to borrow the school’s phone. Harry was ecstatic when he had seen Zayn standing in the entrance of the school with Niall and Liam. It turned out the best for all of them. 

But currently Zayn is sat in he and Louis’ bedroom, wondering why the woman at the office hadn’t seem inclined to believe that Zayn was Niall’s parent. He’s the one that stays home with Liam, and takes care of them, doing the laundry, and cooking most of the time. Was he neglectful before? Did he just not care? He feels sick thinking about the possibilities of what kind of parent he was before his accident. And maybe that’s the reason that Liam doesn’t want anything to do with him, maybe Zayn was particularly awful to Liam since they spend the most time together. 

Zayn groans, running his fingers through his hair as he tries to figure out what could have been wrong with him before. He hears a tiny creak in the hallway and glances up to see Liam watching him through the crack in the open door. Zayn smiles softly, not wanting to scare Liam who appears to be just watching him closely. 

The bedroom door begins to slowly open, Liam’s little hand pressed flat against it as it swings open and bangs against the wall. Liam stands there for a moment, hesitating with his decision. Zayn remains silent, watching as Liam watches him before he begins to slowly cross the room. 

Zayn holds his breath for a moment until Liam is directly in front of him, staring up at him through wide brown eyes. Liam holds his hand out, and Zayn glances down and sees that he’s carrying a large chocolate chip cookie. Zayn cocks his head to side, wondering if Liam is actually offering him a treat of some kind. 

“You,” Liam says, pushing his hand closer. And Zayn gasps quietly at the first word Liam has ever said directly towards him before he reaches his hand out and takes the cookie from Liam. 

“Thank you,” Zayn says, and Liam manages a small nod. He stands in front of Zayn, staring mostly at the cookie. He snaps it in half, passing Liam the larger of the two and begins munching on his half. Liam accepts, and slowly nibbles on his as he watches Zayn. 

And Zayn is reminded once again how hesitant and curious Liam is when he’s around, how scared he acts when Zayn enters the room compared to how he treats Louis. It reminds Zayn of everything at the school today, and the past few weeks since leaving the hospital, and the steady, constant reminder that he must now have been a good father. Maybe not to Harry, but definitely to Liam and possibly even Niall, and he has a hard time being able to stomach his cookie as his gut begins to twist. 

The thoughts are eating away at him so Zayn decides to make his way downstairs so he can go and talk to Louis about it. He takes the final bite of his section of cookie before standing up, picking up Liam, and going to find Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The principal thing is something that happened to my nephew a few years back so I stole his black eye story and gave it to Niall.


	12. Chapter 12

Louis is puttering around in the kitchen when Niall enters, chewing on his bottom lip, looking confused. Zayn is upstairs in their bedroom, hiding away from the rest of the house. He had told Louis about what happened with Niall at school, saying how he talked to the principal and handled it, but he didn’t give any details other than saying it was handled and Niall is fine. But Louis has no idea what’s bothering him or what could have gone on to make him want to lock himself away. He doesn’t have the energy to question it, doesn’t really care enough at the moment. He’s tired and hungry. Liam’s upstairs, he knows from having watched Niall help him climb the stairs. Harry is bouncing around in the living, singing loudly and dancing along with the movie he’s watching. So Louis feels a little concerned when he sees Niall enter, abandoning his spot in the living room to stare at Louis with worried eyes. 

“Hey, bug,” Louis says, smiling at Niall. “Something bothering you?”

“Did Poppy tell you about what happened at school?”

“Yes,” Louis says carefully, turning the heat down on the stove as he watches Niall. “Is something about it bothering you?”

“What did he tell you?”

Louis frowns, staring at Niall for a moment. “Sit down, bug,” Louis says, pulling out a chair for Niall as he takes a seat of his own. “He said that you got a black eye when you were playing on the playground and that the principal tried blaming you for what happened. He said that you told him it wasn’t your fault and it was an accident. Is there something else you want me to know about?”

“It was an accident,” Niall says. “We were playing tag and everyone was running around and Scott fell over and I was running and tripped over him because I was looking behind me and his elbow hit me in the eye, but it was an accident. Scott said I was angry but I wasn’t angry. I was just running and I fell. I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“No one said you did, Niall. Sometimes school figures are the ones that are wrong, not the kids. None of them saw what happened, and if you say it was an accident then it was an accident. Scott was probably scared and didn’t know what to say, because they were questioning him so maybe he just said you were angry because they wanted someone to blame and he didn’t want to get in trouble. It’s not your fault. It’s no ones fault,” Louis explains. “Have you been worried about this all day?” 

“Mrs. Hicks was mad at me,” Niall says sadly. “I was scared because she wouldn’t let me go back to my classroom and she said she was going to call you and make you come to school.”

“I know, I missed her call, but Poppy went down and it sounds like he yelled at her for you,” Louis says with a wink. 

“Yeah, but…why would Poppy go?” Niall asks, looking up at Louis with wide, confused blue eyes. “She said she could only talk to parents. Poppy isn’t my parent. You are, and Mom.” 

“Bug, we talked about this, mommy isn’t coming back,” Louis says, scooting his chair forward so he can brush his fingers through Niall’s hair. Niall’s the only one who remembers Eleanor and how she left. Liam and Harry were younger, only two and three when it happened and seem to have forgotten there was ever a mother figure in their lives but Niall was eight when it happened, eight years with a mother and Louis knows that sometimes the realization that his mother left him still upsets Niall and probably will for most of his life. Niall also knows that she isn’t coming back and no amount of watching for her in the front window is going to change that. 

“I know that,” Niall says, clearly frustrated. “But Poppy came to school. Why did he come to school?”

Louis takes a deep breath, leaning back in his chair as he looks at Niall, the desperation to understand why Zayn would go to his school and handle everything when it should have been Louis there, it’s supposed to be Louis there. It’s clear to Louis that Niall wonders why Zayn is here and why he does everything that Louis does. 

“Is Poppy your boyfriend?” Niall asks. “Do you like boys?”

Louis’ eyes widen at his son’s questions. “Daddy likes who Daddy likes, but that’s not your concern, got it?” Niall nods. “But Poppy—he’s kind of like a boyfriend, kind of like a husband too, maybe. Do you remember how we talked about how he was in the hospital and he told you that he lost his memory?”

“Yes,” Niall says. 

“Okay, so this is how it is. Poppy thinks that he’s married to me; he thinks he’s married to Daddy. He also thinks that he’s your other Daddy, but he doesn’t remember anything about his life before so these are the things that he thinks are real. He woke up and thought he was my husband and your dad so he’s here,” Louis lies, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

“So we’re pretending?” Niall asks, confused. 

“Kind of. But he’s a pretty good pretend dad, right? Harry loves him and Liam is warming up to him. Do you not like him?”

“No, I like him. I like him a lot. Is that what Uncle Nick meant when he said that he was our new dad?”

“Yeah, that’s what Uncle Nick meant.”

“Oh,” Niall says, nodding his head. He appears to be deep in thought as he takes in Louis’ words and figures out what to think about them. Louis watches him carefully; making sure Niall doesn’t give off any signs of discomfort with what’s happening. If any of his kids are deeply bothered by Zayn then Louis will end it, end it all. He knows Liam has been hesitant but he also knows that's how Liam treats everyone he meets, just like how Harry treats everyone like they’re the most important person in his life. But Niall…Niall would tell Louis if he didn’t like this, if he didn’t like Zayn. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

Niall shrugs. “He can’t remember so it’s not his fault, and he helps me with my homework when you can’t and he cooks good breakfast and dinner. And he yelled at Mrs. Hicks.”

“Well as long as he yelled at your principal,” Louis says, smiling. “But are you sure that you’re okay with him?”

“Yeah, he’s good,” Niall says. 

Louis is about to respond, opening his mouth to talk when he hears the sound of someone coming down the stairs, he glances up and sees Zayn coming, carrying Liam in his arms. Louis frowns, wondering when Liam let Zayn begin to touch him, not that it bothers him because that’s one less reason for Zayn to question why he’s here, but he had thought that Liam was still acting scared of him, or so he heard last. Zayn sets Liam down who quickly runs off to sit on the couch next to Harry who has finally stopped singing, and makes his way towards the kitchen. 

“I need to talk to you,” Zayn says, looking at Louis. 

“Okay, what about?”

“Alone, please,” he says, turning to Niall. 

Niall gets up, pushing his chair in behind him and begins to leave, he pauses for a second before hugging Zayn around the waist. He pulls away quickly, running off into the living room, shooting Louis a thumbs up as he goes. Zayn doesn’t notice, too busy taking up the seat that Niall just vacated. 

“I see that you and Liam are doing well together now.”

“Yeah, the forth time today that he’s let me hold him,” Zayn says, smiling. “It’s kind of nice, ya know? He’s finally acting like I might be a member of this family.”

“What are you talking about? Might be?” Louis asks, knowing instantly that something is bothering Zayn. 

“I went to Niall’s school today, like I told you before, but when I was there the principal kept acting like she had no idea who I was. She kept looking at me funny when I said that I was Niall’s father, and questioned me on it.”

“Zayn, she’s new,” Louis says truthfully. “She’s only been there a year and a half. The boys don’t get into any trouble at school and it’s rare that anyone has to go to their school to talk to a teacher or let alone the principal. So I mean, it’s not like she would have recognized you. It’s not like she’d have recognized me either.” 

“Yeah, but. I mean have I never gone to any of their school stuff? Have I not been involved?” Zayn asks. “I feel like I was a bad father before.”

“Zayn, are you kidding me?” Louis asks. 

“No, I’m not kidding you,” Zayn retorts, glaring at Louis. 

“That’s not what I mean,” Louis says. “Look at how you act now. You clean and cook; you read Harry and Liam bedtime stories when Harry begs you to. You help Niall with his homework every night when I have no idea what Niall’s doing. Liam’s finally getting comfortable with you, and I know you think it’s because he hates you but it’s not. It has nothing to do with hate. Being a good parent isn’t judged by whether or not a school official knows who you are. I think you’re good with the boys, for what it’s worth. If you were bad with the boys before you’d be bad with them now, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Zayn says. 

Louis sighs. “Listen, I know you’re having a heard time, but stop thinking so much. Everything will happen as it’s supposed to happen. You’re thinking too much and it’s going to affect everything that’s actually happening, everything that’s real.” 

Zayn thinks about it for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he mulls over Louis’ words. Louis stands, walking back over towards the stove so he can turn the heat back up, if he keeps it down any longer they won’t be eating tonight and he’s not in the mood for take out. He goes back to cooking their food, watching Zayn carefully as he takes a deep breath and nods his head. 

“You better now?” Louis asks. 

“I guess so,” Zayn says. “It still bothers me that I don’t remember.”

Louis shakes his head. “Do you want to know your one thing today? It can be about anything you want, me, you, Niall, Harry or Liam.” 

“Can it be about me again?”

Louis nods, racking his brain for anything he can think of to tell Zayn. He doesn’t have much and he figures that Zayn’s probably had enough to deal without today with the learning anything grand about himself so Louis settles for saying, “you played sports. You were really good too, you were captain of the football team in school and you had a sports scholarship to get into college.” 

“Really?” Zayn asks, sounding impressed. 

“Yeah, you were good. That’s all I can think of right now. My brains fried. It was a long day at work, the new employee broke one of our machines so I had to deal with that because naturally Nick disappeared in the middle of it. The guy can’t handle a bit of stress in the workplace, it’s too much for him. I have no idea whose idea it was to make him in charge of the whole operation, but they made the wrong choice. I had to take care of all of it. That’s why I missed your calls, sorry about that by the way, but when you’re working with idiots it happens,” Louis says, glancing up to see Zayn smiling at him softly. “What?” He asks confused.

“Nothing,” Zayn says shrugging. “It’s just the first time you’ve ever talked about your day with me. Usually we don’t really talk about that, or anything.” 

Louis nods slowly, shrugging his shoulders. “Not much to tell about work. I usually spend most of it locked in Nick’s office doing everything he doesn’t want to do.”

“Well, maybe when you tell me something about myself then you could tell me something about you.” 

“Maybe,” Louis says, averting his eyes away from Zayn and towards Harry who is running into the kitchen. 

“Daddy, my throat hurts,” Harry says, pouting up at Louis as he stands in the middle of the room. 

“Is it from singing so loud?” Louis asks, teasing slightly. 

“Daddy, it’s not my singing. Singing makes my throat feel happy. It’s sore and it hurts when I swallow. Look at it,” Harry says, dropping his jaw open and sticking out his tongue. 

“Come here,” Zayn says, grabbing onto Harry’s arm to pull him closer. He looks into Harry’s mouth, craning his neck around as he tries to look at the back of Harry’s throat. “Well, it’s a nasty shade of red,” Zayn says. 

“Are kids at your school getting sick?” Louis asks. 

“I don’t know, I didn’t look at their throats,” Harry says, crawling into Zayn’s lap. Zayn wraps his arms around Harry, brushing his fingers along Harry’s back in soothing circles as Harry rests his head on Zayn’s chest. “I need some cuddles, and Daddy maybe I need some ice cream too.”

“How about medicine first, then dinner and maybe, just maybe you’ll get some ice cream. You and your brothers,” Louis reasons, reaching into one of the cabinets to find something for Harry’s throat. 

“Yeah, okay,” Harry says, snuggling closer to Zayn.


	13. Chapter 13

Zayn groans, feeling someone’s hand on his shoulder, trying to shake him awake. It feels too large to belong to any of the children so he knows that it’s Louis doing it, he reaches around, pulling his hand out from under his head to swat at Louis, mumbling under his breath as he shoves his face into the pillow. 

“Zayn, wake up, just for a minute,” Louis says, continuing his assault on Zayn’s shoulder as he tries to coax him out of sleep. Zayn’s already awake but he doesn’t want to so he fights it for a couple more seconds, listening as Louis continues to rattle on about how he needs to talk to him for a minute. 

He pushes his face into the pillow, just briefly, before he rolls over to look at Louis. “What?” He asks in a whisper, voice scratchy but quiet, trying to be mindful of Liam and Harry still sleeping next to him. 

Louis smiles at him and the cheerful attitude so early in the morning has him feeling annoyed, he cranes his neck to look at the clock on the bedside table and sees that it’s not actually that early, rather late for him to sleeping on a weekday. He turns back to Louis when he hears him say, “Harry’s staying home from school today. He woke up when the alarm went off this morning and I gave him something for his throat, and he seemed to have a mild fever so I gave him something for that too. He should be good until ten, eleven if you can get him to last that long,” Louis explains. “Call me if you need me or anything happens. All right?”

Zayn nods, closing his eyes. “Yeah, all right. We’ll be fine. Go to work, tell Niall to have a good day,” Zayn says, waving him off. He rolls over, pulling the blankets up to his neck as he burrows down deeper into the bed. 

Louis pats him on the back before Zayn hears his footsteps across the carpet, the door closing behind him. He lies in bed, listening to the sounds of Niall and Louis, as they get ready to leave for the day. He can hear Niall’s voice wafting throughout the house, loud and cheerful like Louis’ was when he tried to wake him. He continues to listening, trying his hardest to fall back asleep as he hears the two of them leaving the house and the car starting. It takes all of ten minutes for him to realize that he’s not going to be able to go back to sleep.

Zayn pulls himself out of bed, stretching his limbs when he stands and turns around to fix the blankets on the bed so a cuddling Liam and Harry will stay warm. He knows it won’t be much longer until the two of them are awake for the day, Harry waking up first and forcing Liam out of his sleep as well, so he makes his way downstairs to try and get a head start on preparing breakfast. 

~~~ 

“Poppy,” Harry says, following Zayn around the kitchen miserably. He’s dragging his feet as he walks, pouting at the floor, causing himself to bump into the table and walls as he walks. “Poppy, I need a cuddle.”

Zayn sighs, putting the breakfast dishes in the sink. It wasn’t much of a meal, Liam eating as he normally would, happily accepting anything to Zayn gives him, too tired to fight over it. Harry on the other hand had refused everything that Zayn had made, stating that his throat was too sore for food. The only thing that Zayn could get him to eat was a measly banana, figuring that something is better than nothing until lunch when Zayn can convince him to have some soup. 

“Liam is in the other room by himself, watching the movie that you demanded I turn on, so can you go and cuddle him until I get this cleaned up?” Zayn asks, flipping on the faucet to soak the dishes in warm water. He sticks a cloth under the water, getting it wet and wringing it out so he can wipe off the table and countertops. 

“I can’t cuddle with Liam, Poppy,” Harry says, following behind Zayn as he washes off the table. “I can’t get a baby sick.”

Zayn agrees with that, not wanting to deal with two sick children, but also realizing that it’s pointless to bother when they were already cuddling this morning. Besides three small boys in the house it’s futile to try and stop the spread of germs when they’re already on every surface since Harry can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. By the end of the week he’s sure that he’ll have to deal with all three of them getting sick, maybe even himself and Louis too, unless he manages to get lucky. 

“Liam’s not a baby anymore, he’s not as easy to get sick. I promise that I’ll be in there soon,” Zayn says, walking back towards the sink to begin doing the dishes. Harry runs after him, stopping to stand next to his leg. Zayn glances down and sees Harry fixing him with a glare. “What?”

“Lili is the baby,” Harry says. “He’s a baby.”

Zayn sighs, realizing that it’s pointless to argue with Harry when he’s sick and whiny. “You’re right, he’s the baby and babies shouldn’t be left unattended. He put off playing with his own toys so that he could try and make you feel better, don’t you think that you could cuddle him for ten minutes?”

Harry juts out his bottom lip, green eyes turning tearing up and turning glassy as he looks at Zayn. “Poppy,” Harry cries, his bottom lip shaking as he stares up at him. “I need a cuddle, please.”

“Harry,” Zayn starts, shutting off the water, his resolve crumbling as Harry sniffles. 

“Poppy, my throat hurts,” Harry says, coughing into the air, not bothering to cover his mouth, sniffling sadly, or maybe just from being sick. 

Zayn bends down, scooping Harry into his arms and holding him against his chest, he rocks him gently, one hand supporting Harry’s bottom and the other rubbing his back. “I know it does. You have another hour until you can have more medicine though, and you spit out the throat lozenge I gave you earlier.”

“It was yucky,” Harry says, sniffling in Zayn’s ear. “It made me sicker. My throat was angry not happy when you gave me that. I need cuddles to be better.”

“All right, we’ll cuddle until it’s time for more medicine and then I’m going to finish cleaning. So we have an hour to cuddle, is that fair?”

Harry sighs, dropping his head down onto Zayn’s neck as Zayn carries him into the living room where Liam is sat on the couch, moving playing unwatched in the background, pushing two cars across the material of the furniture. He glances up at Zayn and Harry, watching them for a moment before going back to his cars. 

~~~

“I have to put Liam down for his nap,” Zayn says, trying to put Harry down on the couch. He’s bent over with Harry’s arms and legs wrapped around him, squeezing as hard as he can to fight Zayn being able to separate them. “Come on, Harry.”

“I don’t want to be put down,” Harry says, wiggling around in Zayn’s grasp. “Liam doesn’t need a nap. Tell him, Li.”

“I tired,” Liam says, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. 

Harry huffs, letting go of Zayn and dropping down onto the couch. “Liam, you’re not supposed to be sleepy.”

“Sorry,” Liam says, allowing Zayn to pick him up. It’s easier now that Liam is allowing Zayn to be near him, because he’s able to pick him up and now Liam doesn’t have to spend his naps on the couch, instead now that he’s finished his bowl of soup with Harry he can lie down in his own bed and rest properly. 

Zayn adjusts Liam on his hip, looking down at Harry. “You’re getting a nap too so do you want to go up together or do you want your own special trip?”

“Special trip,” Harry says, coughing. 

“Right,” Zayn says, making his way up the stairs. He doesn’t try talking to Liam, not wanting to push him into doing anything. He feels lucky enough to be allowed to hold Liam and he doesn’t want to press his luck. Liam yawns when they reach the top of the stairs, dropping his head on Zayn’s neck as they go into his bedroom. 

Zayn sets Liam down on his bed, holding the blankets back while Liam adjusts himself on the pillows. Zayn tucks him in, brushing a tuff of hair off of Liam’s forehead, watching as Liam closes his eyes tightly, trying to go to sleep. 

When he makes it back downstairs, Harry is sat on the couch, face bunched up in a frown and tears falling down his face. Harry throws himself on Zayn when he kneels down in front of the couch. He cries into Zayn’s chest, telling him how he doesn’t need a nap and how he can’t sleep when he’s sick and how badly he needs a cuddle, how badly he needs Zayn. 

“Poppy, please. I’m so sick,” Harry cries, burying his face in Zayn’s neck, tears leaking onto Zayn’s shirt.

“I know you are,” Zayn says, rubbing his hand up and down Harry’s back. “I know, but you have to take a nap, and your body needs rest when you’re sick. You can at least lie down, maybe you can cuddle Liam while he sleeps since he’s upstairs and he’s all-alone. I can put you in my bed; you love sleeping in my bed. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“No, Harry says, shoving his face into Zayn’s neck, and Zayn feels how hot his skin is getting. 

“You need to lie down, you’re fever feels like it’s getting higher. You’ll feel better when you’re resting and even better after your nap.”

“No, feel better when I cuddle,” Harry says, tightening his arms and legs around Zayn. “I’ll nap here.”

“Harry, you can’t nap while I’m holding you.” 

“Poppy, please.” 

“All right, all right, calm down,” Zayn says, shushing Harry as he continues to stroke his back. “I’ll lie down with you in my bed until you fall asleep.”

~~~ 

It takes Harry ten minutes before he’s sound asleep in Zayn and Louis’ bed, soft snores drifting through the air as Zayn crawls out of bed. He makes his way down the hall, going to check on Liam. He peeks inside the door and sees Liam’s wide-awake, playing the edge of the blanket. 

“What are you doing, mister?” Zayn asks, pushing the door open gently. 

Liam jumps, squeezing his eyes shut tight. 

Zayn laughs, stepping forward and kneeling down next to Liam’s bed. “It’s okay that you’re awake. I’m not angry.” Liam opens his eyes slowly, peeking at Zayn cautiously. “Harry is asleep in my bed, do you want to go in there with him or stay in here?”

“There,” Liam says, kicking at the blanket and allowing Zayn to pick him up. 

Zayn carries him into his bedroom, setting Liam down on the bed and watching as he crawls across the pillows, almost kneeing Harry in the forehead before he snuggles in next to him. 

Zayn tiptoes out of the room, making his way downstairs so he can finally get to cleaning the kitchen and the breakfast dishes, along with the lunch dishes. 

He manages to get through all of the dishes before he hears the sound of crying from upstairs; he glances at the clock and sees that it’s been fifteen minutes since he left Liam upstairs. He shuts the water off and makes his way upstairs. 

Harry is sitting up in his bed, face turned upwards as he cries, loudly. He’s hiccupping as he cries, trying to breathe as the sobs rake through his body. Zayn grabs him, pulling him to his chest, trying to get Harry’s tears to stop. 

“Harry’s what’s wrong? Can you tell Poppy what’s wrong?”

Harry tries to talk, choking on a sob that makes him cry harder, his entire body shaking as it happens. Liam watches on with sad eyes, his bottom lip trembling before he begins sobbing as well. Zayn tries to grab a hold of him as well but Liam scoots back further, shaking his head as he cries. 

“Liam, don’t cry. Harry’s okay, he’s not feeling well, but he’s okay.”

The two continue to cry, wailing as Zayn tries to best to comfort them. It’s the exact time that the phone rings, loud and shrill. He groans, knowing that it’s probably Louis, no one ever calls unless it’s Louis or the odd chance that it’s Niall’s school. He knows that he needs to get to the phone if not to answer it then to at least be able to call Louis. 

He manages to get a hold of Liam, carrying the two of them downstairs. He deposits them on the couch, racing across the house to grab the phone before it cuts to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Zayn?” It’s Louis and Zayn’s entire body sags in relief. “What’s going on, why do I hear crying?”

“You have to come home. Please come home. I’ve tried so hard to take care of them but two is just too many when you’re alone. Harry wants to cuddle and he won’t let me put him down and I can’t give Liam any attention because of it and they were upstairs sleeping and now they’re both crying. I don’t know why Harry is crying but Liam started crying because he was watching Harry cry and now they’re both cry. Please, please, please come home,” Zayn says, breathing heavily as he leans against the wall. 

“Just go and hold them both until I get there. I’m in the car now and I’ll be there in a minute. I’m pretty sure I’m breaking every speeding law right now but I’m on my way,” Louis replies. 

“Thank you,” Zayn says before hanging up the phone, his body feels tired and run down as he makes his way back towards the two weeping children. He drops down on the couch, pulling the two of them into his lap, letting them hold onto him as he cries. He rubs his hand along their backs, shushing them quietly as their sobs begin to get softer. 

They’re reduced to mere sniffles by the time Louis walks in the door, dropping his stuff down on the floor as he makes his way over. 

Harry pulls his head out of Zayn’s neck when he hears the noise, looking up at the source. “Daddy,” Harry says, pulling away from Zayn completely to jump onto Louis. “Poppy left me and I just want to cuddle. I don’t feel good, Daddy. My throat still hurts.” 

“I know, I know,” Louis says, patting Harry on the back. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” 

“I didn’t even need a nap,” Harry says. 

Zayn watches the two of them, still holding Liam in his lap, Liam’s head resting against his chest as he sinks further into the couch. 

“How about you and I lie down here on the couch and Poppy and Liam can go upstairs for a nap. Liam looks tired,” Louis says. 

Zayn glances down and sees Liam’s eyes, red and puffy from sleep, blinking slowly. 

“You two go upstairs, I’m sure you’re exhausted,” Louis says. 

Zayn nods, standing up, balancing Liam in his arms as he steps away from the couch. 

“Hey,” Louis says, grabbing onto Zayn’s arm. “You did good, don’t go up there and beat yourself up over this. It’s never easy when one of them is sick. I’ll take care of Harry and you can take care of Liam and when Niall gets home you can take him as well. But don’t worry about whatever happened here today, Harry’s just needy when he doesn’t feel good and it’s overwhelming, I know, but you did a good job with it. You almost made it the entire work day.”

“Thanks,” Zayn says, smiling at Louis as he turns to go upstairs. He walks Liam up the stairs and into his bedroom, laying Liam down on Louis side before he crawls in behind him, pulling the blankets over the two of them. 

He sighs, feeling as his body sinks into the bed, adjusting to the relaxing position of being able to lie down. He feels Liam scooting closer to him, resting his head on the same pillow as Zayn, and Zayn can’t help the burst of happiness that rushes through him at the gesture, it’s bigger than the happiness he felt when Louis told him that he didn’t fail at taking care of Harry and Liam today.


	14. Chapter 14

Louis arrives at work, anxiously checking his phone to see if Zayn’s sent him anything. Harry is still sick, Niall claiming to have a sore throat this morning as well, but Zayn had forced Louis out of the door, shoving him and a jacket out before he closed the door and locked it. Louis had a key to get back inside but didn’t want to fight it. 

His phone is blank, a picture of his children smiling up at him instead of a message. He pockets his phone as he shoves open the door to Nick’s office, tossing his keys onto his desk, and closing the door behind him almost immediately.

“Morning,” Louis says, glancing up at Nick who has his feet propped up, remote aimed towards the television in the corner as he lowers the volume.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” Nick says, dropping his feet off the desk and down onto the floor, pushing his chair in so he’s sitting at his desk properly, arms folded over the wood as he stares at Louis. 

“And why is that?” Louis asks, tossing his jacket down onto the back of his chair before taking a seat. He grabs the file folder at the top of the stack, flipping it over so he can begin looking over invoices. 

“I had assumed with Harry sick that you’d want to be at home with the hubby, you since you went running to his rescue yesterday.”

Louis glances up, glaring at Nick. “My going home yesterday had nothing to do with Zayn and everything to do with Harry. Have you ever dealt with anyone other than yourself when they’re ill? No, better yet, have you ever dealt with Harry when he’s sick while also having to deal with Liam? It’s not easy. Now Niall is at home too, probably faking it, but still. I shouldn’t have left him alone with them today but he swore that he’d be okay and Harry swore that he’d let Zayn take care of Liam too, plus Niall will be there to at least help with Liam. I’m giving it until lunch before I go back home and claim I was done for the day.” 

“You’re awfully touchy for someone who doesn’t want to go home to help out their not-husband,” Nick says deliberately sweet as he goes to take a drink from his coffee. 

“You could just ask me whatever bullshit you’re dancing around,” Louis says, closing the file and sitting back in his chair. “So let’s hear it, what garbage did you come up with today?”

“I didn’t come up with anything today, but yesterday, maybe a few days ago, but I think that you’re beginning to get a little fond of your pretend husband slash baby daddy slash built in servant slash high school bully.”

“Right,” Louis says, rolling his eyes. “You would know so much about feelings since you’ve seen single for, how long now, four years. And let’s not forget your loving nature towards children and cheery disposition.” 

“See that’s another thing, you’ve got a little bite about you when I mention your little wife.”

“Zayn,” Louis corrects, flipping back open the file folder. 

“Exactly my point,” Nick says, slapping the desk. “I should be allowed to call him anything, if I so please, and you shouldn’t be worried about if I remember his first name or not.”

“Or, I’m just worried about your memory since you seem to think I’ve got seven children, five on a good day, nine if you’re feeling particularly stupid.”

“You have far more children than most people do,” Nick says, flippant. “But we’re not talking about your children, we’re talking about,” Nick goes to call Zayn another name but Louis fixes him with a glare before he says, “Zayn and how smitten you are with him.” 

“Right, and what makes you think any of this besides the fact that you’re out of your mind?” Louis asks. 

Nick holds up a finger, motioning for Louis to wait a second. Louis watches with curiosity as Nick opens one of his drawers, pulling out a green notebook. He flips through the pages until he lands a little past the center, laying it flat on the table. “Reason number one…”

“You’ve been writing it down?” Louis shouts, shifting his position around so he’s sitting on his knees, trying to look over the desk so he can see what’s taking place. Nick grabs the notebook before Louis can, scooting his chair out so the notebook is out of sight. Louis huffs as he repositions himself, waiting to hear what Nick’s written down. 

“As I was saying, reason number one: last Tuesday you raked your sad, pathetic, little mind for memories of Zayn so you could feel better while you gave him a bath.”

“I did not give him a bath, he was stressed so I simply ran it for him and gave him a memory to occupy his memory-less mind.”

“Reason number two: Zayn called you at work and talked on the phone for a solid five minutes about what you needed to get from the store that night to get through the week.”

“That’s normal,” Louis protests. “That doesn’t mean anything. Veto, take that out.”

“It’s my book,” Nick says, sticking his tongue out at Louis. “Fine, I’ll find a juicy one. Okay, here. Reason number fifteen: when you made our coffee last Friday you didn’t take it how you normally do, instead you rambled on about Zayn made coffee the weekend before and how amazing it was and forced me to try it. The moral of this reason is that you’re changing yourself to adapt the things that Zayn likes. It’s valid and you cannot veto it.”

“Coffee, what a solid argument.” 

“Fine. Reason number thirty-three: you confided in me on Tuesday how worried you were when Zayn woke up from a nightmare, muttering about a car crash and being almost in tears. You weren’t worried because that’s how Zayn lost his memory, you didn’t even mention anything about you cover being blown or worried about yourself. You rambled about scary it must have been for him, said you got out of bed and made him tea while he looked after your seven children since they were all in bed with you.” 

“So I’m a nice person,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders as he tries not to remember the night in question, not wanting to remember the sheer panic in Zayn’s expression as he woke Louis, the way his voice cracked when he described the dream in raw details. 

“Nice people don’t pull someone from the hospital and pretend they’re their husband because they were a dick to them ages ago. Or, maybe that’s just my opinion.” 

“I didn’t see you stopping me,” Louis says, defensive, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your book of reasons is stupid and none of them hold any merit.” 

“Maybe not, but I’ve got almost sixty things that tell me you’re softening up.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Louis says, standing up from his chair and sliding back on his jacket. Once he has his jacket back on, he reaches down and closes his file, dropping it back onto the stack it was one earlier. “I’m not even going to make it to lunch because I’m heading home. There are a million other things that I could be doing with my time besides listening to you recite a stalker book to me. That’s probably illegal.”

“It’s not, I checked,” Nick says, dropping his notebook back into his drawer. “You can deny it all you want, but a part of you has developed something for that man. I might be wrong about what kind of feelings they are, but you’re feeling something. Maybe it’s just less hate then you felt when you first saw him in the hospital, maybe it’s something more, only you know that. But I’m not wrong that you’re feeling something.”

Louis looks at Nick for a minute, watching as he shrugs his shoulders and reaches out for his coffee, taking a drink of it as he stares back at Louis. He huffs out a breath, grabbing his keys off the desk where he tossed them when he walked in, turning to leave, he says, “goodbye, Nicholas.” 

~~~ 

“You’re home early,” Zayn says when Louis walks in through the front door, Harry in his lap, waving sadly at Louis. 

“Nick was getting on my nerves so I came home. I grabbed the stuff you asked for at the store on my way back,” Louis says, holding a few shopping bags in the air. 

“Where’s Uncle Nick?”

“He’s not here, sweetheart. He’s still at work today. How are you feeling?”

“Not good,” Harry says. “I’m still really sick.”

“Yeah, I bet you are. I’m going to go put these away and then you can tell me in better detail how sick you are. Where are Niall and Liam?”

“They’re upstairs, someone was getting a little whiny so Niall took Liam upstairs for me. There’s some soup on the stove still if you’re hungry,” Zayn says. Louis watches as he smiles up at him, still running his fingers through Harry’s hair. 

“Thanks,” Louis says, smiling at Zayn before he leaves the room. 

He makes it to the kitchen, finished putting the groceries away and eating Zayn’s soup before he starts hearing Nick’s voice in the back of his mind, rattling this off as another reason in his book.

~~~

“Where is Poppy?”

Louis turns away from the bill in his hand and sees Niall leaning against the counter staring up at him. “He’s upstairs with Harry, they’re lying down for a little while since Harry didn’t want to take his nap alone and to make sure he doesn’t wake up Liam like he did yesterday. Why do you need him?”

Niall shakes his head. “No, I was just wondering.” 

“Mhm,” Louis says, setting the bill down so he can turn and face Niall properly. “Maybe you should get a nap too, since you’re not feeling well. It’s best to rest as much as possible.”

“No, I’m okay,” Niall says, glancing around the kitchen. “I could use some water though, can you hand me a cup?”

Louis reaches above him, grabbing a glass out of one of the cabinets. “Maybe we should get some medicine in you, spray the back of your throat at the very least. I don’t want Liam getting sick as well.” 

Niall shakes his head again. “I’m okay. I feel much better now. Poppy is really good at making sick people feel better, Harry will probably wake up from his nap without a sore throat and cough.” 

Louis laughs, knowing that Niall called the day off so he could stay home. He had been curious about it in the morning, not wanting to be the parent to send his kid to school because he thought he was lying when really he was sick, but now he’s the parent who thought his kid was lying when he really was and bought into it. It’s not a big deal; children come up with reasons to miss class all the time. Louis knows that he used to do the same thing when he was school, which is part of the reason why he’s not angry with Niall for lying. 

Louis picks up the bill again, going back to reading about the changes that the gas company is making regarding their service, little things that mean they’re raise the prices but Louis likes to make sure he’s up to date on all of the changes happening and why his bill is almost double what it was last week. He barely remembers that Niall is still in the room with him until he speaks up again. 

“I really like Poppy,” Niall says. 

“Hmm?” Louis says, dropping the bill once more so he can turn to look at Niall. “What’d you say?”

“I said that I really like Poppy. I thought about what you said, how he thinks he’s our other dad, and I’m glad he can’t remember his real life.”

“Why is that?” Louis asks, leading Niall towards the table so they can sit down. 

“Well,” Niall says, hopping down in the seat next to Louis. “He’s really nice and today when you were at work, he made us soup, it was really good. And that’s another thing that I like about him, how he makes us good food. He also drew Liam a picture of Batman, Batman! He said he’s going to finish Harry’s drawing later, he said it was going to be Superman.”

“What drawing do you get?” Louis asks. 

“I haven’t decided yet but he said that I could get anything I wanted as long as it wasn’t too difficult.”

“Well, that’s awfully nice of him.” 

“Yeah, I really like having him live with us. He makes a good second dad. I’m glad we got him instead of another family,” Niall says, bouncing around excitedly in his seat.

“Daddy.”

“That’s Liam,” Louis says, standing up. “I need to go and get him, but for now, I’m glad to hear that you’re so happy with him being here.”

Louis actually has no idea how to feel about hearing his son talk about how wonderful another is at being his father. On one side, he’s glad to know that Niall isn’t going to blow his cover, isn’t going to tell Zayn that he’s not really a part of their family one night when he’s mad. On the other side, Louis wonders if he’s doing a good enough job at being a father. He wonders if he’s doing something wrong in the parenting department. He knows that he’s number one to all of his children that Zayn is a shiny new toy that they can’t get enough of, but he can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy that Niall has found someone else to admire. 

He makes his way out of the kitchen, rushing towards the stairs where he knows Liam is waiting at the top. 

“Daddy,” Liam says, holding his arms up in the air as Louis makes his way up. 

Louis reaches down, picking him up off the floor, rubbing his back in soothing circles as he carries him back down the stairs. “Did you just wake up from your nap?” Louis asks, rounding the couch to sit down. 

“Yes,” Liam says, nodding his head. “Where’s Poppy?” 

“Well, isn’t he Mr. Popular today. What do you need him for?”

“I need Batman.”

“Oh,” Louis says, nodding his head. “Your drawing. Maybe you could go ask Niall where Poppy put it, and then afterwards we could watch Batman, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, smiling as he shimmies off Louis’ lap and onto the floor. 

Louis watches him go when his phone rings, he reaches into his pocket, not even bothering to check the ID on the call before he presses it to his ear. “Hello?”


	15. Chapter 15

Zayn doesn’t know what caused it, Louis’ standoffish behavior. It’s been three days filled with tension and walking on eggshells when it comes to trying to make sure Louis doesn’t snap about something. 

It started off with something small, Louis saying that he needed to go somewhere, take care of something and not coming back until almost three in the morning. Zayn didn’t think anything of it, wanted to ask what had happened and where Louis was for the night, but didn’t know how to go about it in a way that wouldn’t lead to a fight. It was late and he was tired so he ignored it. 

Louis skipped work after that, claiming he wanted to be home to make sure that Harry got over his illness without any struggles on Zayn’s end. And it worked, Harry’s sore throat, fever, and cough passed without spreading to Niall or Liam. He’d help out during the day, disappearing to their bedroom during naptime to lie down with the kids, Zayn doesn’t think he sleeps during that time, thinks he spends it in his own head, worrying about whatever it is that’s been bothering him.

Louis doesn’t talk to them much over the course of the three days, short sentences and one-word answers leaving his mouth when he’s spoken to. He doesn’t yell, doesn’t fight with anyone, he merely leaves the room at random parts of the day. 

Zayn’s waiting for him to break, waiting for him to let out whatever is bothering him. It’s been three days and Louis is still acting off. The past three days he seemed distracted by something, but today…today he seems angry about something. 

It starts off with something small, Louis ignoring Zayn and muttering quiet words in response to the things Harry tries to tell him, nodding his towards Liam when the youngest says something, and smiling tightly at Niall. 

Zayn watches him with careful eyes, waiting until after their breakfast to follow him into the other room. Niall is upstairs in his room, Harry and Liam spread out on the living room floor as they try to work through a puzzle of farm animals. 

“Did you not sleep very well?” Zayn asks, stopping Louis before he go back upstairs and spend the day in their bedroom. “You were ignoring the boys and you’ve been acting strange.”

“Slept fine,” Louis says in response, staring ahead of him instead of looking at Zayn. 

“Why are you all pissed off? Why did they do to you?”

“I really, really don’t want to talk about it,” Louis says, finally turning to look at Zayn. “Just let it go, okay? I’m fine, and I’ll be fine. I don’t need your help and I don’t need you to worry about me. Just leave it alone.” 

“I think you need to talk about it,” Zayn says, reaching out to grab Louis’ arm, stopping him from making his way upstairs. 

“I think that I need to get out of here,” Louis says, pulling his arm out of Zayn’s grasp, brushing past him as he goes. 

Zayn tries to call after him; he feels the words get stuck in his throat when the door slams shut behind Louis. 

Zayn hears Liam gasp when he jumps, the sound of the door startling him. “Where’s Daddy go?”

“Out,” Zayn says, tearing his eyes away from the door so he can look at Liam, offering him a tight smile. “He’ll be back soon…I think.”

~~~

Louis’ arrival back is marked by the sound of the front door being slammed shut. 

Harry gasps, his eyes going wide when he hears the sound of the door. “Daddy’s back,” he says, smiling, jumping out of his chair to run towards the door. 

Zayn doesn’t look up, stares at the drawing in front of him while the kids greet Louis, Louis returning their greetings with less enthusiasm. He caps the marker, passes his paper over towards Liam so he can finish the coloring sheet. 

It’s been a quiet afternoon, Zayn being forced to find things for Liam and Harry to do so they would stop asking where Louis went and when he’d come home. 

Zayn’s annoyed with Louis, wants to know what happened, why he left and where he went, doesn’t want to leave it alone like he did three days ago. He’s tired of coming up with excuses for him, lying to Harry and Liam about what might have happened with Louis. 

“Harry can you take Liam into the other room so I can talk to Daddy?” Zayn asks. 

“Yes, I can do that,” Harry says, nodding his head wildly as Zayn helps Liam out of the chair. 

Zayn watches as Harry grabs Liam’s hand, pulling him into the other room. He waits until they’re out of earshot before he turns to look at Louis. “What happened this morning?” He asks, standing out of his chair so he’s eye level with Louis. 

“I needed to get a little air,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m an adult, I’m allowed to leave my own house without your permission.”

“I never said you couldn’t leave,” Zayn says, stepping in front of Louis, blocking his exit from the room. “I’m asking what happened that made you want to leave, which is a question that you can answer if you want to. But you can’t deny that something is bothering you when you’ve been storming around this house for days, upset about something. So, I’ll ask again, what happened this morning?” 

“It’s really not any of your business,” Louis says defensively. 

“Something is bothering you and whatever it is is affecting you in some way because you’re being a dick, not just to me but to Harry, Niall and Liam as well. So do you want to tell what’s going on?”

“My dad died. My father is dead. So, now you know.” 

“I’m sor—“ 

“I really, really don’t want to hear your apology,” Louis says, brushing past Zayn. 

Zayn watches him go, watches as he makes his way up the stairs, and takes a deep breath when he hears their bedroom door slam closed.

~~~

It’s after dinner when Louis finally cracks; he reemerges from their bedroom, dropping down in one of the kitchen chairs. He skipped dinner, avoided eating with them, and didn’t answer the door when Niall tried to get him to come downstairs. So Zayn is surprised when he hears the chair scrap against the floor, surprised when he sees Louis in the same room as him. 

It’s well after bedtime, all three of the kids are fast asleep, or at least pretending to be, and it’s just the two of them downstairs. Zayn is standing at the sink, rinsing off plates so he can drop them into the dishwasher. He doesn’t bother glancing up at Louis, instead he watches him carefully from the corner of his eyes as he scrubs the ceramic in his hands. 

It’s quiet, and Zayn is almost convinced that Louis only came down because he was hungry, he’s about to point towards the fridge to tell Louis that he left a plate in there when Louis finally speaks up, proving Zayn wrong about why he came down here. 

“I’m sorry about leaving and staying locked in my room. I just needed some time to myself and I probably didn’t handle it as well as I should have,” Louis says. 

Zayn doesn’t answer just nods his head and waits, sensing that Louis wants to say more. 

“They called a few days ago, told me that he died and I just—I didn’t know how to handle it appropriately. My father wasn’t ever around when I was growing up. He walked out on us when I was young, it doesn’t really matter when it happened, I was old enough to remember him being there and being happy, and then waking up one morning and he’s gone.” 

Zayn looks up, casting his gaze over towards Louis who is staring down at the table. He shuts off the water, carefully makes his way across the kitchen towards the table where Louis is sat as Louis continues to speak. 

“I picked up his slack, doing everything that I could to help my mom out, to keep us from struggling, which we did anyway. My childhood was spent doing odd jobs around the city for anyone who would let me. He never tried to help with anything, never gave my mom money when she told him that my sisters or me needed something, he just…lived his life and didn’t bother looking back. The only time we heard from him was on Christmas morning, he’d talk to us for maybe five minutes each. 525,949 minutes in a year and he could only give up 5 for me.”

Louis laughs and it’s hollow, bitter, and it sends a chill down Zayn’s spine. “Louis, I’m…”

“Don’t,” Louis says, clenching his jaw. “Please don’t apologize to me for his bullshit. He’s the one that was in the wrong, whatever happened between him and my mother had nothing to do with my sisters and me, but he’s an insensitive, selfish prick who didn’t care about anyone but himself. I’m over what happened, that he was never around, I had come to terms with it and then I get a call from some woman who says she’s his wife and that he’s died. She wanted me to go to his funeral, said it would be nice if I could say a few words. What could I possibly have to say about him?”

Zayn shakes his head. “I don’t know, I don’t. I wish I could tell you but this is one of those things that only you know. If you don’t go, then fine, that’s up to you. You don’t owe him or anyone there anything. If you do go, maybe it’ll bring you peace with it.”

“I’ve already made my choice, I’m not going, it’s happening right now and I’m here. It’s bad enough that I have to be reminded of it again now just because they had to tell me he died. I haven’t spoken to him since Niall was born. He came and saw Niall in the hospital and never looked back.”

“Oh,” Zayn says, biting his lip. “I didn’t—I don’t remember that.”

Louis squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. “I know you don’t.”

“Right…right. Listen, you know what’s best for you and if this is best then…I’ll support you.” 

Louis nods slowly, opening his eyes and looking at Zayn. “My father was a man who couldn’t be around for me, and that’s fine, but he couldn’t even be around for my kids. Do you know…do you know how hard it is to know that one of your parents didn’t want you and left? Do you know how hard it is to remember that and then to see that it happened to your own children? That one of their parents just left them, like it was no big deal. I didn’t—I never wanted this to be something that my own kids felt.” 

“But I’m still here,” Zayn says confused. “I mean, I don’t have much of a memory, but I’m still here physically.” 

Louis blanches, dropping his head into his hands and letting out a tired groan. “Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry. You’re here, and I shouldn’t—god, I’m so sorry. I have my own shit to deal with right now and it has nothing to do with you. You’re not—you’re not the problem for anyone, with anything. I didn’t mean to throw your memory loss back into your face.”

“It’s okay,” Zayn says, not feeling offended at all. He can imagine what it feels like for Louis to live with someone who doesn’t remember anything, doesn’t remember the three boys that are in the other room. He can imagine what it would feel like to have a father who forgot about you on purpose and then to have a husband who forgets his kids on accident. 

Louis nods again, dropping his head down to stare at the table. He nods his head for several more seconds, looks like he’s working up the courage to say something before he releases a deep breath. 

Zayn doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to react, nothing inside of him is telling him that he understands what it’s like to lose a parent, to lose someone that is apart of you. He watches Louis closely, taking in his hunched shoulders and worried brow as his fingers dance across the tabletop. It’s the first time that Zayn thinks he’s able to read Louis, can tell what it is Louis wants deep within his soul, and right now, right now Louis wants to be alone, left to his thoughts. 

Zayn pulls himself out of his chair, he pauses before he goes back to the sink to finish the dishes to look at Louis for a moment, he takes a deep breath before he rounds the table to Louis’ side. He looks down at him for a moment, doesn’t bother waiting for Louis to look up at him before he bends down and presses a kiss to Louis’ cheek. He holds his lips there for a moment, pulling away and resting his head against Louis’ for a moment before he pulls away completely.


	16. Chapter 16

It’s Louis’ idea to do a family day, thinks it’ll help make up for the past couple days of his weird behavior from the news that his father died. He had snuck out while everyone was sleeping, bringing home donuts and made the announcement at breakfast, said that he wanted to do something fun, the five of them. The kids had seemed excited about it, cheered and screamed about how they were going to go and change so they can leave right away. Zayn…well, Zayn’s not against going to the zoo, but it’s the first time they’ve gone out as a family, or well, the first time he remembers going out as a family at least. 

He’s helping Liam get dressed, putting him in the tan shorts and the stripped shirt with the cartoon monkey head on the center that Harry picked out for him. He’s trying not to show that he’s nervous, doesn’t want anyone in the family to think that he doesn’t want to go out with them, that he doesn’t want to be out in public with them, so he distracts himself with making sure that Liam and Harry are dressed. 

“Poppy, I need my hat,” Harry says, allowing Zayn to pull a white shirt with a tiger over his head onto his body. 

“What hat?” Zayn asks confused, he’s never seen Harry wear a hat before, doesn’t know where Harry’s hat would even be kept. 

“My snow hat,” Harry says. “It’s a lion.”

“Harry, it’s too warm outside to wear a snow hat. You’ll have to go without it.” 

“Poppy, it’s a lion. You have to wear it when you’re seeing lions.” 

Zayn sighs, stands up and motions for Harry and Liam to follow him. “I know it seems like a good idea, but you need to understand that it’s just too warm to wear that. Plus, if you wear a hat then the lions won’t be able to see your face properly, so really a hat would just mess everything up,” Zayn reasons, bending down to pick up Liam and Harry so they can walk down the stairs. 

“Wow, that’s such a good idea,” Harry says, leaning forward to kiss Zayn on the cheek. “Poppy, you’re so smart. I don’t need my hat anymore, Poppy.”

“Good because I wouldn’t even know where to begin to find it,” Zayn mumbles under his breath as he sets Liam and Harry down on the ground. 

“When we go?” Liam asks, starting up at Zayn with wide brown eyes. 

“Soon, we’re just waiting for Niall to finish getting dressed. Daddy is packing lunch and then we can leave. I promise it’ll be soon.”

“Poppy, what’s your favorite animal?” Harry asks. 

Zayn thinks about it for a moment, tries to remember the animals in the world and what he thinks of them, tries to remember what he actually likes, what he’s always liked. “Dogs, I really love dogs.” 

“There aren’t any dogs at the zoo,” Harry says, looking at Zayn funny. “I really like the monkeys. Liam, what do you like?”

“Big turtles,” Liam says, holding his arms out to demonstrate the size of the turtles. “And frogs.” 

Zayn nods along as Liam and Harry continue talking about their favorite parts of the zoo, naming every animal they start making animal noises at each other, continuing on with it until they’re strapped in the car, and Louis puts on their favorite music. 

~~~ 

The zoo is…the zoo is crowded, and there are moments where Zayn feels like he can’t breathe because there’s just so many people and it’s overwhelming. He feels like he’s in a constant state of panic trying to keep tabs on everyone, trying to make sure that Harry doesn’t rush off to see an animal before the rest of them are there, trying to make sure Niall doesn’t eat his food that he’s dropped on the dirty concrete, trying to make sure that Liam doesn’t get lost in a big crowd. Louis doesn’t seem worried at all, let’s the kids do as they please and Zayn is about to wring his neck until he watches as Louis grabs onto the back of Harry’s shirt, pulling him back towards him, and then lifting him in his arms. 

“You’re running away too much so now Daddy has to hold you,” Louis says, and Zayn’s body almost sags down to the ground in relief that there is one less child he needs to worry about. 

“Poppy, hold me.”

Zayn glances down and sees Liam with his arms extended in the air, thrusting them upwards towards Zayn, his eyes pleading with Zayn. Zayn bends down and picks him up; grateful again that another child will permanently be with them. 

They’re currently standing in front of the hyenas, none of the kids looking at them for very long. 

“Don’t like,” Liam says, frowning at the hyenas. 

“Those are, those are the ones that are mean to Simba,” Harry says. “I don’t like them either.”

“That’s a movie, Harry, but these guys are boring. Can we go to the big cats now?” Niall asks. 

The big cat section is…it’s interesting to walk around with Harry, Liam, Niall, and Louis, who all take turns practicing their roars and growls in front of the animals. Zayn doesn’t participate, refuses to rile the animals up, and refuses to tempt them to jump over their swimming pool and onto the patch of grass in front of them where they could easily get killed. He’ll leave the wild behavior to Louis, who seems to be a professional at it. 

“Daddy, look,” Harry says, pointing his little finger in the direction of one of the lions in the enclosure. “He has the same hair as me.”

Zayn tries not to laugh, doesn’t want to act like Niall who is clutching his stomach and practically howling, instead he pretends that he didn’t hear. 

“You’re right,” Louis says. “But you’re definitely cuter, the wild mane look looks much better on you than that silly little lion.” 

Zayn smiles as he watches him kiss Harry’s cheek, admires the way that Louis indulges the children. 

“That Simba,” Liam says to Zayn, pointing towards the lion. “And Nala.”

“That’s right, do you think their other friends have names?” Zayn asks. 

Liam shrugs his shoulders before he turns back to the lions, waving at them. 

“Poppy, Daddy, did you know that, um, lions live in groups and they’re called prides?” Niall says, reading the plaque left out by zoo workers. 

“I didn’t know,” Louis says, running his fingers through Niall’s hair. “Does that mean that we’re a pride since Harry just confirmed he’s a lion?”

“Let’s go to the next one,” Harry shouts. 

They walk along the fence, saying their goodbyes to the lions, and approach the tiger enclosure. 

“Okay, Niall, read us the plaque,” Louis instructs. 

“Um, it says that tigers are the biggest cats in the world, and they hunt alone, and that they’re almost extinct,” Niall reads. 

“What’s a stink?” Harry asks. 

“Extinct,” Zayn corrects. “And it means that there aren’t many tigers left and soon they won’t be alive anymore. It’s where all of an animal species dies.” 

“Smarty pants,” Louis mumbles under his breath. “On a happier note, let’s count the tiger stripes, yeah?”

They take turns counting the black stripes; Louis gets to thirty before he stops trying, Liam can only count to seven before he forgets what comes next, Harry guess there are at least three hundred, and Niall, the only one who got to read the plaque, says it’s probably closer to fifty. It’s an easy game, and each of them ends up laughing at each other as they try to figure it out. 

It’s fun and easy, and Zayn feels a bit silly for worrying that going out, as a family, would be difficult for them. It’s easy and Zayn is met with the fleeting feeling that it’s right, and it’s supposed to be this way. But he doesn’t dwell on it, chooses to ignore it as he has to stop Niall from trying to sneak into the tiger enclosure. 

“One more big cat and then we’re taking a break,” Zayn says. “I need to sit down and give my heart a moment to stop racing. You’re not going to try and get into another animal enclosure; I don’t care if it’s one full of puppies. All right, Niall?”

“Fine,” Niall groans, stomping off towards the next one. 

Zayn watches him go, adjusts Liam in his arms, and turns to see Louis smiling at him. “What?”

“He wouldn’t have gotten far. He’s just trying to show off. And, if we see an enclosure for puppies then we are most definitely breaking into it and taking at least three of them home,” Louis says, beginning to walk after Niall. 

“The last thing we need is three puppies,” Zayn says. “And you shouldn’t let Niall just wander off like that. Kids get snatched up everyday and the last, the absolute very last thing we need is for something dangerous to happen while we’re out at the zoo. It would ruin this place for them forever.” Louis smiles at him again and Zayn rolls his eyes in annoyance because he can tell there is more to that smile than just Louis trying to be friendly. “What are you smiling at?”

“You, and adorable, little Liam,” Louis says, reaching out to tickle Liam’s sides. Zayn squints his eyes at him, gauges if Louis is telling the truth or not. “You’re just worried, and it’s…well, it’s kind of cute.”

Zayn stares at him for a moment, stops when they reach Niall, and tries to think of a response. 

“That’s a cheetah,” Harry shouts. “Wow.”

“It’s a leopard,” Niall says. “And it says that their tails are as long as their bodies, and that they bring their food to the tops of trees.”

“So they can watch the sunset?” Harry asks. 

“So other animals can’t get to it,” Zayn says. “They live alone so to protect their meals they drag it up into a tree to prevent anyone from getting to it.”

“Kind of like how Niall likes to hide the cookies when we buy them,” Louis says, winking at Niall. 

“Niall leopard,” Liam says, smiling. 

“You’re so silly,” Zayn says, kissing the side of Liam’s head. 

“Should we go eat lunch?” Louis asks. “I made everyone something in the bag that Poppy has so no Niall, we will not be buying anything else. But if you all behave then we can have ice cream. All right?”

A chorus of yes breaks out amongst them as they head off to find a picnic table. 

~~~

Zayn doesn’t realize he’s doing it until Louis turns to look at him, giving him a funny look before saying, “Why are you staring at me?”

Zayn blanks because he has absolutely no idea why he’s staring at Louis, just knows that he hasn’t been able to take his eyes off the other boy since they got to the zoo. He loves watching the way that Louis interacts with the kids, doing anything to make them smile or laugh, and it should be annoying how he encourages their rowdy behavior by participating it in himself, but it’s supposed to be a day of fun, and Louis is just trying to make it more fun. 

Zayn is enamored with Louis. 

And that…well, Zayn really isn’t sure when that happened. 

“I wasn’t,” Zayn says, glancing away from Louis, squinting his eyes as he tries to find something else to focus on. He glances back over towards Louis, sees that the other boy is giving him a funny look before he turns away and focuses back on making sure the kids all eat their lunch. 

Zayn tries to think about as he eats, wonders when his body started to notice Louis. He tries his hardest to think of something and the only thing he can come up is the measly little kiss on the cheek that changed things. He knows it did, knows it caused a shift in their dynamic, at least from his end. 

He’s started noticing things, like the way Louis’ eyes change in the light, the beautiful shade of blue inside of them, his sharp cheekbones, and the smooth line of his jaw. Zayn can’t take his eyes off, he can feel a tiny flutter in his stomach as he watches the way the sun casts off Louis’ face. 

It’s the first time since he’s been home from the hospital that he feels like he has some kind of feelings for Louis, and he thinks the kiss helped activate something inside of his body, something that he forgot about in the accident.


	17. Chapter 17

“Louis.”

Louis barely hears his name being called, mumbles something back in response, stretching his limbs before he rolls over in the bed, tugging the blankets with him. He rubs his face on the pillow, releasing a sigh as he tries to drift off to sleep. 

“Louis.”

“Shh,” Louis whispers, hoping Zayn will stop trying to wake him up. He’s tired and the back of his eyelids aren’t illuminated any color but black so he knows it’s not time to be awake. He doesn’t want to be awake. 

“Louis, it’s really important. Please wake up,” Zayn begs and Louis can hear the desperation in his voice. 

“The kids okay?” Louis asks, clearing his throat when his voice cracks from lack of usage. 

“They’re fine. I just need to talk to you about something, it’s really important. Can you wake up? Please?”

Louis sits up a little more, glances around the room at the utter darkness enveloping it. “Is it morning?” He asks confused, trying to find a reason for why Zayn wants to talk to him and wake him from his sleep. 

“No, it’s,” Louis hears a shuffling, Zayn rolling over in the bed, “about three in the morning.”

“Oh god,” Louis says, dropping back down on the bed, throwing the blankets over his face. It’s three in the morning, and Louis can think about a million different times of day where a conversation would be lovely, but three in the morning when he has to stop into work the next morning is not a time that he thinks is best. “Why?”

“Louis, it’s important, please.”

Louis takes a deep breath, inhaling the hot, suffocating air under the blanket before he pulls the blanket down, rolling onto his side so he’s facing Zayn’s side of the bed, he can’t see him but he knows that Zayn is already staring at him, probably with wide, hopeful baby animal eyes. “I’m listening,” Louis says, adjusting the pillow to support his neck better. 

“I remember,” Zayn says. And Louis…Louis blanks. He chokes on words, fumbling around in the bed until he falls out of it, tangled up in a mass of blankets, the bedside light flicked on, and Zayn’s face peeking over the edge of the mattress. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Louis says, freeing his arm from the blankets where it was trapped behind his back. “I’m fine. I’m fine. You remember? Like, you remember everything?”

“Not everything,” Zayn says, bending over the edge of the bed to pull the blankets back onto it. “Well, not really anything actually. But I feel like I remembered something.” 

“What do you think you remember?” Louis asks carefully, pulling himself off of the floor so he can sit back down on the bed. 

“Remember how you said that you used to mow lawns and stuff because your dad left?” Louis nods his head slowly, trying to keep his facial expression neutral. “I remember you doing that. I can’t picture it but I’ve been thinking about it, trying to remember you and I when we were younger, and it’s been so hard, but I can see, like, a fuzzy image of a little boy in torn shoes and wearing a shirt with a rip in the stomach, brushing the hair out of his eyes. It’s the same way I’ve seen you brush your hair out of your eyes now. And, like, I don’t physically remember it, but I remember. I know that I do,” Zayn says, smiling at Louis. 

He looks so proud of himself, looks like he could burst with happiness at any moment and Louis is a bit ashamed that he’s washed with relief that Zayn doesn’t actually remember anything. 

“That’s great,” Louis says, smiling softly at Zayn. 

“Yeah?”

“Of course it is. Yeah that’s…Zayn that’s amazing. I’m happy for you, I really am. I’m just a little tired right now, sorry.”

Zayn smiles at him, his eyes getting squinty and his nose crinkling at the bridge. “I’m sorry for waking you, it’s just…I remembered. I remembered something, kind of, and I’m so happy. And that’s something we should share with each other, right?”

“Of course, yeah. I’m really happy for you. I’m glad you remembered something even if it was wasted on remembering me pruning up the neighborhood lawns.”

“I don’t think it was wasted,” Zayn says, shaking his head at Louis. 

Louis nods his head, smiling at Zayn again. He doesn’t really know what to say, doesn’t know how to handle the situation properly, it’s really sure that he’s prepared himself for the moments where Zayn might start to connect the dots of his life. So he just smiles, and watches as Zayn fixes the blankets are their bed, throwing them over Louis. “Back to bed?”

Zayn nods, maneuvering his body around until he’s back under the blankets. He reaches over and switches off the light as Louis slides his body back down so he’s lying on his back staring up at the ceiling. He releases a deep breath, gets ready to tell Zayn good night until he feels a pair of soft lips against his cheek. 

“Night, Louis.”

~~~

Louis keeps to himself the following morning, leaves Zayn in bed with the boys while he gets in the shower, and tries to let the hot water drain his brain of all thoughts of the night before. He can’t—he can’t think about something like this right now. He can’t worry about the fact that Zayn is starting to remember something that sounds like he doesn’t recall anything at all. He can’t have that pressure on him when he needs to catch up with all his missed work that he knows Nick would never bother to touch, unless he got desperate and then he’d make one of the other employees take care of it. But even still Louis would have to go through and fix all of the mistakes, because they all make mistakes. No one at work knows how to do anything, the entire place would fall apart with Louis and he’s surprised that he hasn’t gotten a phone call from a desperate Nick begging him to come back. 

He just can’t deal with that on top of having to worry about Zayn. It’s too much for him. Zayn with his memory and his gentle and caring kisses on the cheek that Louis just can’t return. Kisses that he needs to return, has to return, and maybe even wants to return but he can’t think about that. It’s too much, and that’s why he needs to go into work early, because if he can’t handle his mental crisis then Nick can. Because Nick is out of his fucking mind and he has a crisis every other week. 

Louis steps out of the shower, dries his body off and begins to dress himself in the clothes he left lying out on the sink while he showered. He figures that he can grab a coffee and some breakfast on the way to work, write Zayn a note and let him know that he had to head out early, and avoid anything to do with the other boy until he figures this out. He just needs a few hours alone so he can think, even if he has to do it sharing an office with Nick. 

He’s working on tucking his shirt into his pants when the bathroom door opens behind him. Louis finishes zipping up his pants, buttoning them closed before he looks up and Zayn’s a sleepy Zayn standing in the doorway. 

Louis ignores him and steps into his shoes, grabs his pajamas off the floor and tosses them in the basket next to the door that Zayn threw in there one day when he was annoyed with Louis and his inability to keep dirty clothes off the floor. 

“Are you leaving already?” Zayn asks, rubbing at his eyes as he lets out a yawn. 

“Yeah, sorry. I need to go talk to Nick about something since I’ve been kind of a shit employee lately, with Harry’s sickness and my father’s death so it’ll be best if I go in early and get started on everything I missed. That’s why I’m going to work right now,” Louis says, nodding his head. 

“Oh right,” Zayn says, nodding his head. “Do you want me to make you breakfast?”

“No, I’ll grab something on the way. It’s fine. I should really get going though.”

Zayn yawns again, passing Louis as he walks over towards the shower. He stops in front of it, reaching in to turn the water on. Louis watches him as he does it, standing still in the middle of the bathroom as Zayn removes his shirt, revealing the tanned skin underneath. Louis can see the way his stomach muscles flex as he tugs the shirt over his head, tossing it in the basket across the room. Or so Louis thinks anyway, Zayn could have thrown the shirt into the shower, out the window. The shirt could be anywhere but Louis’ eyes are on Zayn’s abdomen and he can’t tear his eyes away from him. 

“Louis, aren’t you going to work?”

“Work, yes,” Louis all but shouts. “I’m leaving…for work. I’m going to work. You’re taking a shower, the kids are sleeping, and I’m going to work.” 

“Yeah, that’s what’s happening,” Zayn says, giving Louis a funny look as he slips his thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants. 

Louis turns around, waving over his shoulder as he rushes out of the bathroom, out of the house and into his car. 

~~~ 

“Figure it out yourselves if you have problems. The boss and I are busy,” Louis shouts, slamming the office door closed behind him. 

“And the princess makes another dramatic entrance.” Louis turns around and sees Nick sat at his desk, pulling his glasses off his face so he can look up at Louis. “Something bothering you?”

“Is something bothering me? Yes, there is a lot of something bothering me.”

“One guess tells me that this is about the wife at home.”

“Zayn. Yes, this is about Zayn.”

Nick nods his head, scoots his chair back so he can open one of his desk drawers, pulling out the god-awful notebook that Louis knows contains his crazy list of reasons against Louis when it comes to Zayn. 

“You’re getting out your stalker notebook? Right now? Are you serious?”

“Don’t worry about what I’m doing, let’s focus on what’s bothering you,” Nick says, his voice calm and soothing like a therapist talking to his patient. 

“We already know what’s bothering me. Zayn is. He’s a problem. It’s just; well it’s a lot of things actually. Remember how my father died,” Nick nods his head, “well I was a little grumpy about the whole things and he was nice and understand and it made me crack. I sat down and poured my heart out to him about my dad and what a piece of shit he was, and maybe some other feelings of sadness, and he listened to it all. He sat down and listened to me and then, probably because I was close to a break down, he…” Louis stops, biting his lip as looks at Nick who is racing to write all of this in his notebook, eyes glancing up at Louis every few words to let him know he is listening. 

“He what?”

“Nothing. Then we went to the zoo, right? I felt bad that I was being so awful to everyone, especially my kids, so I took them out for the day. And he was…” Louis pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose because he doesn’t want to say the word wonderful in front of Nick. He doesn’t want this to go into Nick’s stupid notebook. “He was worried about the kids, and was acting all jumpy because they were being kids and he didn’t calm down until I picked up Harry and Liam asked him to hold him. And then he really started to enjoy himself, he was having fun until Niall tried to get inside one of the enclosures and then we all got lectured. But it was fun. He was fun.”

“He was fun,” Nick says slowly as he writes the information down. “So you’re freaking out because he’s a fun person?”

“He remembered something this morning.” Nick’s mouth drops open, his eyes widening as he looks at Louis. “It’s not really anything but he remembers me as a kid, like, back when I used to have to take care of people’s lawns during the summer to help my mom. He remembers it. I don’t know if he remembers because I said it, he doesn’t remember anything else I’ve told him, but he remembers me. Well, me when it comes to that.”

“That’s…well, that’s better than him remembering everything, yeah? I’m sure if that happened then you wouldn’t have woken up this morning.”

“And he keeps kissing me,” Louis says. 

“Oh. Oh,” Nick says, grabbing his pen again. “How many times has this happened?”

“Nick, are you kidding me?” Louis asks, smacking the pen out of Nick’s hands. 

“I’m writing this down for scientific reasons. Someone needs to document your midlife crisis and embarrassing attempt at ignoring your budding feelings for the lovely Zayn.” 

“Nick, I could really use something other than your psychotic behavior right now.”

“Okay, okay,” Nick says, holding his hands up in the air. “How many times has he kissed you?”

“Well, I mean it’s only happened on the cheek and only twice but, like, that’s pretty heavy, right?”

Nick tries to be sneaky when he glances down at his notebook. “Well, I wrote two million kisses so I was just slightly off. But I don’t think it’s really that heavy, like, he thinks you’re married. He thinks you have children together, he thinks before he forgot everything that you two were probably living the dream with your nice house and crazy, but cute children. He’s doing what he thinks a husband is supposed to do. You signed up for this when you brought him home from the hospital.” 

“I did,” Louis says, nodding his head. “I knew what I was doing then. I don’t know what I’m doing now. I really don’t know. He was never pleasant before. He was never nice before but now… He’s different and my kids really like him.” 

“And you really like him,” Nick says, grinning like a mad man. 

Louis looks at him for a moment, taking a deep breath. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to do your work. There is a stack of files right in front of you, a list of orders that need to be made, reviews to be written for about six different employees, and you’ve missed a lot of work, so you’re going to get to work. And then when you’ve put a dent in it, you’re going to go home and enjoy a lovely meal with your new husband and your five kids,” Nick says, smiling at Louis before he finishes writing something in his notebook.


	18. Chapter 18

Louis can feel a change with Zayn and their relationship since Zayn remembered Louis as a younger boy. He can feel that there has been a shift in their relationship; he can see that Zayn is acting differently now that he can remember something. Zayn’s happier and hopeful that more memories could come now that his brain has scratched at the surface of something. Zayn knows there are more memories underneath there and he’s optimistic that more will come. He latches onto Louis in hopes that more will come, knows that Louis is the cause of the first. And a part of Louis feels bad that Zayn’s only real memory is flashes of images of Louis as a teenager cutting grass and wearing ratting clothes. But Zayn doesn’t show any signs of caring about what memories come back as long as they come, so Louis doesn’t let himself dwell on it.

And the thing is Louis never expected Zayn to be so nice. He never thought that there would be a moment where Zayn reached acceptance, he thought there would be resilience until Louis got bored of it and sent Zayn on his way. He didn’t think Zayn would stop trying to figure out what felt so wrong about being in Louis’ house and just come to terms with the fact he was there. But he is and he has, and as much as Louis thought he was prepared for Zayn to be in his life, he realizes with every moment that a part of him, a tiny part of him is crumbling. Zayn’s eye crinkling, nose scrunching, toothy grin of his that he gives to Louis when he says something funny, or even when it’s not particularly funny. And Louis will never admit that sometimes he finds himself waiting for Zayn to smile like that.

And that thought hits him with the reality of how long it’s been since Eleanor has left, almost two years to the day, and Louis realizes that he’s forgotten what it’s like. He’s forgotten what it’s like to have someone else in the house to help take care of the kids, someone he can talk to that doesn’t call him Daddy, or go to school, or have to look up at him to make eye contact. Louis had forgotten what it was like to fall asleep next to someone and find him or her there in the morning, someone that doesn’t come in a pint-sized package. He had forgotten what it was like to see his kids attached to someone in the same way they’re attached to him.

And he knew it was going to happen, knew that this could be a result of bringing Zayn home but he hadn’t expected it so quickly. He didn’t think of a lot of things but despite it all he doesn’t regret his plan, would do it again in a heartbeat if the opportunity presented itself. And maybe that’s why Louis finds himself a little more hesitant, and a little more careful around Zayn.

Because the missing chunks of their lives are slowly starting to be filled but as his family grows closer to Zayn, Zayn begins to remember pieces of his life that has nothing to do with Louis and his three sons. A part of him is terrified that Zayn will remember everything and that Louis’ cover will be blown, and he tells himself that it’s because he doesn’t want to hurt his kids, doesn’t want them to feel pain from his actions but it’s too late for that. He’s in too deep and the only thing he can do is be more cautious around the boy he brought home, the boy who made things miserable for Louis back when he didn’t need the added stress. Louis knows why he did this, remembers the way he felt when Zayn humiliated him in front of the entire school. He reminds himself of it when Zayn smiles at him, packs him a lunch for work, cooks his favorite dinner, and when he lets him sleep a little later on the weekends since he works so hard all week.

So he forces himself to remember their past together as Zayn slides onto the couch next to him, pulling his knees up underneath him, and sitting closer to Louis than necessary that this is the same boy who left Louis ashamed and humiliated in front everyone he knew all those years ago

“What are you watching?” Zayn asks, leaning back against the couch and looking at Louis instead of the television.

Louis glances at the screen, sees a commercial for a product designed to make your life easier in the kitchen being played, and realizes that he hasn’t been paying attention to the television since he sat down. “Nothing really,” Louis says, clicking the channel up button to change it. “I’m just looking for something to watch. Where are the boys?”

“Niall is in the kitchen completing his homework,” Zayn says, fidgeting a little.

“And what about Harry and Liam?”

“They’re in their room. Harry said they were working on something very private and that we were not allowed to see it yet but he would let us know when we could. Liam almost told me but Harry put a hand over his mouth and slammed the door shut. I’ve peeked in a few times, they’re coloring, so I know they’re okay,” Zayn says, smiling. “It’s kind of cute.”

“What is?” Louis asks, tilting his head to the side as he looks at Zayn.

“You’re going to think I’m being weird,” Zayn says, biting his lip.

Louis’ eyes follow the movement, zeroing in on the plumpness of his bottom lip as Zayn’s teeth sink into it. If Zayn notices he doesn’t say anything and Louis is grateful for it. “Why would I think you’re being weird?” Louis says, dragging his eyes away from Zayn’s mouth to look at the rest of his face, watching as Zayn’s expression turns slightly insecure. 

“It’s just cute how Liam and Harry are upstairs in their room coloring, Niall’s in the kitchen doing his homework and we’re in here together. It’s just…it’s cute; it’s what families do. We’re just being a family, and it’s normal. It’s not like I lost my memory and anything bad every happened, we’re just…a family. I don’t know, I just like it,” Zayn says, smiling hesitantly at Louis. “You think I’m being weird, don’t you?”

“I don’t think you’re being weird.”

“But you think I’m being something,” Zayn says and Louis hesitates on how he should answer. “Come on, tell me.” Zayn shifts around again so he can knock his shoulder with Louis’. He doesn’t move from his position, he stays there and when Louis’ shoulder bounces back into position it’s resting against Zayn’s. 

“You’re just acting differently lately. Ever since you remembered me as a little kid you’ve been different, happier. You’re smiling more and I can tell you’re not scared about being here like you used to be.” 

Zayn nods his head, leaning back against the couch so his head is now resting on the cushion, wide hazel eyes blinking up at Louis. “I’ve been trying to remember, you know. And you were helping me for a while. You said that you’d tell me one thing everyday, anything I wanted.”

“I did say that,” Louis says, nodding his head. 

“I’m glad you remember because today I want to know something, I want to know something new. But I want it to be about the boys. I want you to tell me a story about each of them, a memory that you have. I remembered something about you, but I remember it how I saw you and it was because of something you said to me. I want to try and remember something about them now. Can you tell me something about our boys?”

“Yeah, of course,” Louis says, nodding his head as he racks his brain for memories of his children that don’t involve Eleanor or where Eleanor’s presence can be omitted. He promised to give Zayn a memory a day but until now they have always been about Zayn and never about the life he never actually lived. “Oldest or youngest first?”

“Youngest,” Zayn says, adjusting his position again so he’s closer to Louis than he was before. 

Louis feels a little bit trapped, the arm of the couch on one side and Zayn’s body on the other. He shifts his arm around, pulling it into his lap so he’s no longer resting against Zayn’s shins. “All right, okay, so Liam was so different from Harry and Niall when he was a baby, even more so then than he is now. He was such a serious baby and so quiet. He’d stare at everyone with a serious look on his face but his cheeks were so chubby and puffy that he looked like an angry little puffer fish. He studied everyone. It used to take so much work to get him to laugh and when it did it was so quiet but it was beautiful, his entire face would light up. His features would get all squishy and squinty and he’d laugh until someone tried to laugh with him and then he’d stop and go right back to studying you. I miss that.” 

Louis glances over and sees Zayn smiling at him, his hand covering his mouth as he listens to Louis talk. Louis looks at him for a moment before he clears his throat and continues. 

“Harry, more so than Niall, was the exact opposite as Liam when they were babies. Harry thrived off affection. He needed it like oxygen, or so he thought anyway. Harry was never frowning at people, there was never a pout on his face until you tried to put him down.”

“That sounds like Harry,” Zayn says, interrupting Louis story.

“Yeah, but luckily now you don’t have to carry him all the time. He’d get so upset when he was a baby and he’d be put down. He would instantly begin crying and he wouldn’t stop until someone picked him back up. And even when you did he’d make you work for forgiveness. He’d pout at you, his bottom lip stuck out as he let out little whimpers. You’d have to brush your fingers through his hair, rub his back, and give him kisses until he was happy and giggling again. It took forever to get to the point where he’d be okay with being set down. I think a lot of it had to do with him and Liam being so close in age, he was our spoiled little baby. We used to call him our kissy monster.” 

“We did?” Zayn asks, still smiling. 

Louis looks at him for a moment, realizes that he used ‘we’ when he hadn’t meant to, and didn’t realize that he was doing it. “Yeah. He’d say he couldn’t fall asleep without a kiss or that he couldn’t brush his teeth without a kiss, everything had to be negotiated through affection. He used to make me kiss all of his stuffed animals before his nap.” 

Louis pauses, thinking back on the time when his kids were younger, when there was an illusion that they were a family and everything was going to be okay. It hasn’t felt like it when Eleanor left but Louis realizes that theses memories would still hold true even if it were Zayn in their lives at the time instead of Eleanor, that none of these memories are dependent on her integral part of the family. He would still remember his quiet baby with the chubby cheeks even if she had left sooner, he would still remember his son and his demands for love. And he’s not telling Zayn anything that has to do with Eleanor like he originally worried about because her absence in their lives now, her desire to want nothing to do with the family takes her out of the memories without Louis having to do anything. 

“What about Niall?” Zayn says, shaking Louis from his straying thoughts. 

“Niall, hmm,” Louis says, rubbing his chin as he tries to think. “He used to try and play Daddy when Liam came home. We never asked him to do anything but every time we turned around he’d be distracting Harry while we tended to Liam. It got to the point where he used to demand to give Harry his bottle and when Harry was finally taken off the bottle and ready to eat baby food, Niall would sit down on my lap, wrap his hand over mine and feed Harry. He’d tell him stories while he ate, he’d tell him what it was like to be a big boy and what it was like at school. He was…Niall was amazing.”

“Still is,” Zayn corrects. 

“Yeah, he is,” Louis agrees, nodding his head as he drops it down on the back of the couch. 

“They’re all amazing. I wish I could remember it, I know it’ll come to me but thank you for telling me. Niall, Harry, Liam, they’re such amazing children. They don’t deserve to be forgotten. And I’m so, I’m so happy here,” Zayn says. 

And Louis nods his head, tries his hardest to pay attention to the words that are coming out of Zayn’s mouth, but he’s inside of his head, thinking back on the moments when his babies were babies. Zayn’s opened up a door to the memory lane inside of Louis’ mind and he can’t close it, he’s seeing flashing images of each of his sons at different points in their lives. 

He hears Zayn release a sigh before he feels his head drop down to rest on his shoulder and Louis’ mind goes from memories to the contact of Zayn’s body against his. How Zayn’s legs are still tucked under him but he’s leaning towards Louis, his head adjusts to get more comfortable on Louis’ shoulder and Louis’ cranes his next to try and get a better look Zayn’s face. He’s not successful, can barely see past Zayn’s hair. 

He settles back against the couch, releases a deep breath and reminds himself that he’s the one who told Zayn they were married, not originally but he played along with it. He’s the reason Zayn’s here and Zayn’s only doing what he thinks he should be doing. He doesn’t add the obvious ‘what he wants to be doing.’ He doesn’t have to tell himself that it’s okay because with every second that passes causes Louis to feel comfortable with the touching. So he takes his deep breath and settles back onto the couch and goes back to flip through the channels like he was doing when Zayn first sat down. 

But their moment is interrupted a few minutes later by the sounds of their names being called.

“Daddy, Poppy.”

Louis glances around Zayn and sees Harry standing at the other end of the couch; he’s smiling at the two of them, seemingly unbothered by Zayn almost being in Louis lap. 

“Daddy, you have to go get Liam. He’s waiting for you upstairs and he made you something,” Harry says. 

Zayn sits up, pulling himself away from Louis. 

“What did you make?” Louis asks, sliding to the edge of the couch, trying to get a peek at the paper in Harry’s hands.

“No, Daddy,” Harry says, hiding his piece of blue paper behind his back. “You’re not allowed to see it. Go look at Liam’s.”

“Well all right then,” Louis says, standing up from the couch. When he’s a safe distance away, Harry takes his spot next to Zayn and lets him see the image, Louis can’t see it from his position at the bottom of the stairs but he’s Zayn let out a quiet ‘wow’ as he ascends up the steps for Liam. 

Liam is waiting patiently at the top, holding onto the banister as he watches Louis make his way. There is a piece of red paper in his hands, he’s holding onto it by the corner as he rests against the ground. 

“What did you draw?” Louis asks, bending down to reach eyelevel with Liam. 

“Us,” Liam says, thrusting the piece of red paper into Louis’ hands. 

He glances down and looks at it, sees himself drawn out brown hair that looks like a square on his head with Niall next to him, indicated by a strip of yellow across the top of his head, then Harry with brown circles over his, and Liam taking up the end up a similar strip on the top of his head like Niall’s except this time in brown. But Liam’s not the last figure on the paper, there is another one, standing next to drawn Liam with black hair standing tall like Louis’. He knows it’s Zayn, doesn’t have to ask who Liam added to their family. 

“You like?” Liam asks, looking at Louis with sincerity in his eyes. 

“I love it. I think this is the best drawing I’ve ever seen. Should we hang it up?” Louis asks, reaching out to pick up Liam, adjusting him in his arms as he makes his way down the stairs. He sees Harry and Zayn still examining Harry’s drawing, a quick look over the couch let’s Louis know that Harry drew a picture of the two of them. 

He enters the kitchen, setting Liam down on the ground and grabs a roll of tape from out of one of the drawers. 

“So where should we put it?” Louis asks, glancing at Liam. Liam doesn’t even bother to look around the room before he shrugs his shoulders. “Do you want to put it on the fridge?”

“No,” Liam says, shaking his head. “By the flower.” 

Louis frowns for a moment, trying to remember what flower Liam is talking about, but Liam is pointing behind him so he turns around to see what he’s pointing at. And when he does he sees that Liam is pointing at the flower he drew the day Louis found out about Zayn. 

He steps forward, breaks off a piece of tape and sticks the drawing Liam did of their family onto the door. He hesitates before he steps away, brushes his hand along the edge of the paper. 

He feels someone behind him, barely turns his head and sees Zayn looking over his shoulder. “It’s all of us,” he says and Louis can hear the smile in his voice as he looks at the drawing. 

“We look like a proper family,” Louis says, turning around so he’s facing Zayn. “Let me see Harry’s.”

Zayn passes him the piece of paper, still looking at Liam’s. “That’s because we are,” he says, and Louis nods his head, doesn’t have a response back so he keeps quiet and looks at the image of Zayn and Harry with a lion in between them.


	19. Chapter 19

Louis wakes up to the feeling of someone shaking him, a small hand on his shoulder and someone muttering ‘dad’ over and over again. He blinks awake, squinting when he sees that he’s facing the window. The sun seeping through is creating a harsh glow around Niall, his blond hair and pale skin harder to look at as he tries to adjust to the light. He slowly sits up in bed, Niall’s hand going from his shoulder to his ribs as he continues to push on Louis. 

“I’m awake,” Louis croaks, glancing around the room to see that it’s empty, a sign that Zayn and all three of his boys woke up before him. Niall continues to push on him until Louis grabs his hands, holding onto them firmly to stop the action. “Why are you shoving me?”

“Poppy is downstairs,” Niall says, tugging his hands out of Louis’ grip. 

“Okay, he’s allowed to be down there,” Louis says slowly. 

“No. He’s looking for stuff.” 

“What kind of stuff?” Louis asks in confusion. 

“He said he wants to find our pictures.” 

“What pictures?”

“He just said pictures. He’s looking downstairs. Dad, he’s not in the pictures. He thinks he’s our dad but he’s not in our pictures. I don’t know what to do. I told Harry to knock some of his paint over, so we dumped three tubes onto the ground,” Niall says quickly. 

“You spilled paint on the ground?” Louis says. 

“Yeah, I’m supposed to be in my room thinking about why I did it and why I can never do it again. But he’s only going to be cleaning for so long, right? I had to wake you up. He’s looking for pictures,” Niall says again, enunciating each word as he says it, trying to make sure that Louis understands. 

Louis throws the blanket off his body, rubs at his eyes as he slides out of bed. He pulls his hands away and looks at Niall, “you spilled paint on the ground?”

“Sorry,” Niall says, biting his lip. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Where are Harry and Liam?”

“Liam is with Poppy still, he’s finger painting. Harry is in time out on the couch. He was crying too much to go in his room.”

“All right, I’m going to head downstairs and see what’s going on, you need to go back into your bedroom and do what Poppy said. I appreciate your help, but next time I don’t want you to do anything that’s going to get you and your little brother in trouble. Do you understand?”

Niall huffs out a breath. “Okay.” 

“Good, now go back to your bedroom.” Niall nods his head and makes his way across the room as Louis steps off the bed and pulls a shirt on over his head. He watches as Niall make his way out of the room. He’s struck with a sudden burst of curiosity as he watches Niall, wonders why his son would tell him that Zayn is on a quest to learn the truth, or to remember his life, a search will end in nothing more than the exploitation of what Louis has done. 

“Wait… Why did you tell me?” Louis asks, stopping his son from leaving his bedroom by voicing his curiosity. 

Niall turns around, shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t want to make Poppy mad,” Niall says. “And I don’t want him to leave like mom did. It’s almost the time mom left, did you know that?” 

Louis nods, looks at his son and the look on his face, the one that still doesn't understand what happened to Eleanor, the one who doesn’t understand why Zayn came into their lives but accepted it and hasn’t given Louis cover away like he deserves, hasn’t admitted the truth to Zayn. He’s grateful and appreciative, even if it means his son is dumping paint on the hardwood in their kitchen. He owes a lot to Niall.

“He won’t leave,” Louis says, knowing that it’s something he can’t promise. “I don’t think. Just… go to your room. I’ll handle it.” 

Niall nods his head and rushes out of his room as Louis follows close behind. 

Louis checks to make sure that Niall made it back into his bedroom, sees his eldest son grabbing a book off of one of his shelves and lying down on his bed before he makes his way down the stairs. He can see Harry sitting on the couch, tiny whimpers leaving his body as he turns around to see who is coming down the stairs. 

“Daddy, I didn’t mean to,” Harry cries when Louis reaches the bottom of the stairs, his eyes puffy and red, lips swollen, and cheeks flushed. “Niall made me do it. I don’t want to be in trouble.” 

Louis pities him, makes his way across the room and kneels down on the floor in front of Harry, who flies forward and wraps his arms around Louis neck, his legs locking around his abdomen, the action causes Louis to stumble back, having to grab onto the coffee table for support. “It’s not all Niall’s fault, you listened to him when you know that you shouldn’t do bad things.” 

“I didn’t,” Harry says, pulling away to look at Louis. “I didn’t want to. Niall said that I had to. I didn’t want to do it.” 

“But you did it and now you’re in time out, right?”

“I’ve been in time out for three days,” Harry says, sticking out his bottom lip. “I didn’t do anything bad.”

“You poured paint on the ground,” Zayn says. Louis glances up to see him standing behind the couch, dirty cloth in his hand as he looks at Louis. “They poured three colors, and at a minute for every year they’ve been alive adds up to 15 minutes for Harry and a half hour for Niall, who I’m sure is playing with stuff in his room instead of actually doing this appropriately, but he’s a bit old for time out and it’s too early to think of anything other than time out, so I don’t really care.”

“He’s reading a book, I saw him on my way down here. How long have they been in time out?” Louis asks. 

“Three days,” Harry cries. “I’ve been sitting here for so long and my butt hurts, I’m hungry and I have to go potty.” 

“It’s been twelve minutes, and you just went potty before you sat down,” Zayn says. 

“No I didn’t,” Harry says, shaking his head. “Daddy, it hurts. I have to potty. It hurts and I don’t want to pee in my pants.” 

Louis tears his eyes away from Harry to see Zayn standing behind him mouthing that he’ll be fine and holds up two fingers to show that Harry only has two minutes left. Louis waves him off, nodding his head and figures for the last two minutes he can get Harry to talk about what happened, because he figures it’s all his fault that Niall and Harry got in trouble to begin with since Niall is trying to protect him. 

“You have two minutes left in time out. Do you want to talk about what you thought about while you sitting here? What did you learn?”

“I don’t listen to Niall,” Harry cries, putting his face back in Louis’ neck. “And Poppy is mean.” 

“Poppy knows that you can’t break the rules, so he’s not mean. But yes, don’t listen to Niall and don’t pour paint on the ground. Paint is for paper only, right?”

“I’ll never ever, ever, ever do it again,” Harry says. 

“That’s good to know,” Zayn says. “Because your time out is finished so you’re allowed back into the kitchen to finish what you started, and by that I mean the finger painting not the putting the paint on the floor.”

Harry kisses Louis on the cheek before he hops off the couch, turning to give Zayn a sour look, his eyes and cheeks still red, before he makes his way across the room.

“You’d have thought I’d spanked him before sitting him down,” Zayn says, watching as Harry runs back towards the kitchen where Liam is. 

“You didn’t, did you?”

“No,” Zayn says, turning back to look at Louis. “Are you serious?”

Louis holds his hands in the air, surrendering to Zayn’s glare. “I’m only asking.” 

“I meant, like, because of how he sat on the couch the entire time crying, how angry he is with me, and how he just gave me a dirty look, not because I actually hit him.” 

“I said I was only asking.”

“Okay, well don’t ask again.” 

“Oh god, don’t start. You made a comment so I asked but it’s not a big deal. I trust, and know that you wouldn’t put your hands on them. He’s just mad about getting in trouble. You’re the one who put him in time out so you’re the one who gets all the angry looks, if I had done it then he’d be sucking up to you.” 

“I still don’t understand why he’d pour paint on the ground. They were just standing there, looking at me, and dumping the tubes out on the ground. Liam looked like he was going to cry watching it,” Zayn explains. 

“I don’t know,” Louis says, doing his best to act like he doesn’t understand what happened, despite his prior warning from Niall. “What were you doing when they dumped the paint?”

“Oh,” Zayn says, his face lighting up. “I’m trying to find things in the house, sentimental things, or mementos, or something that could spark a memory, like photographs or something. Where do we keep our photographs?” 

“Photographs? Um, photographs,” Louis says, glancing around the room at the different pictures of the boys at various stages in their life on display not only around this room but also around the entire house. “We don’t. We don’t… No photographs.”

“We don’t have any?” Zayn asks, cocking an eyebrow at Louis. 

“Nope,” Louis says, shaking his head. “Actually what I meant to say was that Nick is coming over today. And so we’ll need to get ready and stuff. And I’m sure you’ve had a long day so why don’t you just sit and relax until he gets here.”

“You’re acting weird.”

“I’m acting like me,” Louis says, making his way across the room, grabbing Zayn by the shoulders and walking him to the couch and sitting him down on the furniture. He grabs his legs and pulls them up so his feet are resting on the table and passes him the remote. “Just stay there, okay?” 

Louis smiles at Zayn and rushes up the stairs towards his bedroom, he stops on the middle of the stairs, peeks over the banister and reminds Zayn to stay there before he runs up the remaining steps and into their bedroom. He rushes around the room, pulling on clothes at random as he goes and grabs his phone on the nightstand, opening a text to Nick and writing, EMERGENCY!!! Please cancel everything you’re doing and come to my house. Immediately!!! 

~~~

“Hi,” Harry says, brushing his cheek against his shoulder as he smiles up at Nick. 

“Pick him up, Louis,” Nick says, taking a step backwards. 

“What’s the problem?” Louis asks, craning his neck to look at Nick. 

“I don’t want him to hang on my legs,” Nick says. “Pick him up.” 

“For someone they call ‘Uncle’ you’re fairly horrible with children,” Zayn says, stepping into the room and picking up Harry. “He’s friendly and happy to see you, that’s why he wants to hang on you.” Zayn gives Louis a look before he steps around them and sets Harry down on the couch. “Where’s Liam?”

“He’s in the window,” Niall says, pointing towards the other side of the room. 

Louis turns around and glances towards the window and sees that Liam is in fact not in the window; he’s standing next to the couch, peering over the arm of the sofa as he watches Nick closely. 

“Well, I notice that Liam still has that staring problem,” Nick mutters under his breath. 

“Nick,” Louis says, the exact same time that Zayn says, “What did you say?”

“Zayn, come to the kitchen with me,” Louis says, grabbing Zayn’s wrist and dragging him towards the other room. He shoots a look over his shoulder at Nick who waves Louis off as he tries to wrestle off Harry who is trying to crawl over the back of the couch to get to Nick.

“Your friend is an idiot,” Zayn says when they reach the privacy of the kitchen. 

“I know, he’s an overgrown child with stupid hair, but he’s also my boss. He’s not good with kids and usually he thinks there are about nine of them in this house. He thinks I run some kind of orphanage or something but he’s not saying anything to offend either of us, or the kids. He secretly loves them, especially Niall, and he’s always here when I need him to help with them or to watch them so how about you just take a deep breath and then come back out there, okay?” Louis reasons, smiling hopefully at Zayn. “I think that Liam will feel more comfortable if we’re in there with him.” 

“Fine. Fine, but I’m only going to listen to so much before I snap.” 

“If you snap then please do it when the kids aren’t in the room. Harry is already emotionally traumatized from timeout this morning, Liam will definitely revert back to hiding behind the couch if you yell around him, and Niall… he probably won’t care, he’d probably laugh if you yelled at Nick,” Louis says, realizing that it takes a lot more than a raised voice to scare Niall. 

“All right, yeah, let’s go back in,” Zayn says, sounding exasperated as he makes his way through the kitchen and back into the living room. Louis hears him trying to talk Liam out from behind the couch. 

He takes a deep breath and prays that the distraction with Nick is enough to keep Zayn away from the family photographs. 

It works well enough because Zayn is too busy making sure that Nick doesn’t say anything offensive, or push Harry off his lap too often to worry about getting his memory back. 

They hang out together in the living room, talking and playing games with the boys for several hours. Louis thinks his idea is working until he notices that Zayn is no longer sitting on the couch next to Liam reading him books, instead the book is propped open and Liam is watching Louis from behind the couch. 

“I’ll be right back,” Louis says, glancing around the room once more to see if he can spot Zayn. He doesn’t hear anything coming from the kitchen so he takes a guess and makes his way up the stairs so he can check their bedroom. Their door is propped open, and Louis can hear a faint noise coming from inside of it. 

He pushes the door open more as he enters, glancing around the room to see that the closet door is open. When he peeks inside he sees that Zayn is sitting on the ground, an open storage container in front of him. 

“What are you doing up here?” Louis asks, staring at the pile of photographs on the ground. He didn’t think that Zayn would slip away to continue his search, didn’t think he’d rummage through the back of their closet until he found the storage container that Louis has been using to store their photographs. He knows that one is safe, knows that every picture containing Eleanor is hidden in the very back in a black box separate from the rest of them. He had considered burning them when he realized she would never be coming back, thought about mailing them to her family and telling them to pass them on, but instead he kept them. He went through and separated them all so that if one of his kids ever asked about her then he’d be prepared. 

But despite the fact that the photographs are separate, he knows it would have been only a matter of time before Zayn found that box and everything would have come crumbling down. 

“I needed to get away, needed some time for myself, so I came up here and started thinking about where people would store photographs, and that’s when I realized they were probably in here the entire time. And I was right. Look at this,” Zayn says, holding up the picture in his hand. It’s one of Harry when he was a baby, his eyes wide, hand outstretched and mouth covered in sauce. “And this one.” It’s a picture of Niall wearing fully military attire, a fake gun held in his hand as he poses in front of the door. “They were so cute.” 

Louis glances down and sees he’s got a picture of all three of them in his hands, he recognizes it instantly as one of the pictures he took when Liam was almost a year old. They’re sat on the couch with Liam in Niall’s lap and Harry standing up next to them, a sippy cup in his hands as he tries to drink from it. 

“Why didn’t you want to show these to me?” Zayn asks, turning up to look at Louis. 

“It’s not that I didn’t want to show them to you. I just… It’s just one of those things, I don’t like to go back and look at. They’ve grown so much, and it’s hard to see sometimes. I wasn’t hiding them from you. There are pictures all around the house, they’re on display and not hidden. I just don’t see why we need to go through these pictures,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders and handing the photographs back. 

“I want to remember,” Zayn says. “I’m not remembering anything by looking at these though.” 

“Maybe you’re not meant to remember just yet. You need to stop rushing it. How did you remember me? It was an accident, I was telling a story and it sparked something inside of you. I know you’re frustrated, and you’re eager to remember but don’t rush it. Focus on what’s happening now. And what’s happening right now is that Harry is crawling all over Nick while Liam hides behind the couch and Niall laughs.” 

Zayn huffs out a breath, drops the photographs back into the box as he brushes past Louis as he makes his out of the closet. Louis hears him mutter under his breath. “This entire family would fall apart if it wasn’t for me.”

Louis snorts when he hears it, bends down and gathers the images left on the floor and places them back inside of their container. He sees the black box with the pictures of Eleanor inside of it, he stares at it for a moment, hesitates for a moment before he reaches out and pulls it into his lap. He rubs his thumb across the lid, pulling it off and stares at the picture at the top. It’s a picture of Eleanor holding Niall when he was first brought home from the hospital. He looks at it for a moment, takes a deep breath as he stares at the image. He puts the lid back on and makes the decision to give Nick the box, have him lock it away inside of his house so Zayn can never accidentally stumble upon the mother that used to live inside these walls. 

~~~ 

“Are you sure you want me to have these?” Nick asks, taking the box from Louis and tossing it into his passenger seat. 

“Yeah, it’s the only thing that could make Zayn think he doesn’t belong here,” Louis says. 

“I don’t think he’s going to be thinking that any time soon.”

“What does that mean?”

Nick shrugs his shoulders, turning the key in the ignition to his car. “I just mean that you should see the two of you together. It’s quite cute watching as you struggle with the children while dancing around each other, trying to act like there isn’t any sexual tension.” 

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying, when you’re not staring at him, he’s staring at you. You should probably figure out how to fix that. My suggestion would be something without your pants, or no. I think that you should put the kids to bed and then start a bath, and light candles. It’s safe to have too many candles burning when you’re having a bath because you can just throw the bath water out on them if something catches fire. And maybe take some pictures. I’d bet he’s gorgeous without all those stupid clothes,” Nick says, winking at Louis. 

“Zayn’s right, you’re an idiot,” Louis says. “Just keep the box some place safe for me, all right?”

“Yeah, I will,” Nick says, patting the box on the seat next to him. “But I mean, are you sure that you want me to have this? Are you going to be all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” Louis says. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know a lot, but I do know when Eleanor walked out on you and your circus number of kids. I’m just saying that if you need me tomorrow then call me. You can come to my house and we’ll cry into some ice cream and then get piss drunk, yeah? And I also know that your new wife is peering at us through the window, so I’ll be on my way,” Nick says, shifting gears. He smiles at Louis before he rolls out of their driveway and makes his way home. 

Louis watches him for a moment before he turns around and heads back inside.


	20. Chapter 20

Zayn can sense it at breakfast that something is off.

Niall has spent the entire meal pushing bits of cereal around the milk inside his bowl, frowning at the table as he does it. He doesn’t answer Zayn when he asks what’s wrong, just sighs and shakes his head. Harry and Liam seem fine, Liam eating his breakfast in a sleepy haze as usual while Harry fills in the painstaking silence of the room. Zayn’s listening, he really is, knows it’s something about an elephant and a cat, probably a dream that happened last night, but he’s also focusing on the silent exchange taking place between Louis and Niall. They’re being subtle, Louis reaching out every for few moments, telling Niall to get through breakfast and then they’ll talk while he rubs Niall’s arm, or brushes his fingers through Niall’s hair. And Zayn… Zayn is confused.

He’s not sure what happened in the span of a few hours and why Niall and Louis woke up looking gloomy. They’d been awake before Zayn, curled together on the other side of the bed was the two of them while Liam lied between them and Harry lying across Zayn’s chest, his head resting on Liam’s arm. It’s uncommon that anyone be awake before Zayn, unless it’s Harry tugging on his hair to ask for a cuddle, and so the two of them being awake should have been his first clue that something was off. He didn’t say anything when he woke up and saw they were awake, instead he lied there and watched as they crawled out of bed, Louis carrying Niall - something that doesn’t happen, especially since Niall is ten years old, far too old to be carried - and left the room, Niall smiling sadly at Zayn over Louis’ shoulder.

He didn’t go downstairs to check on them until after Liam and Harry had woken up, Harry being waking up first and forcing Liam out of his slumber. He didn’t get to see Louis and Niall until they were all sat at the table eating breakfast together, a simple bowl of cereal. 

Zayn’s eyes narrow as he watches Louis and Niall have a silent conversation, talking in low whispers that Zayn can’t hear over Harry telling Liam how to hold a spoon properly. 

“Where are you two going?” Zayn asks when Niall hops out of his chair, pushing his bowl over towards Louis, who grabs it in his hands, telling Niall he’ll be upstairs in a minute. 

“We’re still a little tired so we’re going to go lie down for a while longer,” Louis says, making his way over to drop the bowls in the sink. 

Zayn watches him as he walks, eyeing him suspiciously. “He seemed upset, is everything all right?” 

“Yeah, he’s fine, just a little tired,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. “We’ll be down later, okay? Come get me if you need me.” 

Zayn watches him go, feels uncertainty settle in his stomach, like Louis isn’t telling him the whole truth. He can tell, knows by now how Niall acts during breakfast when he’s tired, and when he’s happy, and neither of those are what he saw just now. He wonders why Louis isn’t telling Zayn, wonders why Niall is so upset after just waking up. 

“They’re sad,” Liam says.

“Daddy says they’re just tired,” Zayn says. 

“I can fix it,” Harry says, pushing his bowl away from him. “Poppy, I’m done. I have to fix it. I’ll be back, okay?”

“Oh, um… All right,” Zayn says, watching as Harry runs away from the table.

~~~

“What is this about?” Louis asks, when Zayn goes to pull him and Niall out of their bedroom.

“Harry put together something and he’d like for the two of you to come downstairs,” Zayn says in response. “So let’s go.”

“Zayn, now really isn’t a good time. Niall just wants to be left alone today, he’s—we’re—it’s just not a good time, okay? Actually, you should just take Harry and Liam out for the day; go do something fun with them. You could take them to the park down the street.”

Zayn narrows his eyes, looks at Louis for a moment. “What’s going on? Why is Niall upset?”

“It’s nothing, just an off day. He’s being clingy and I’m keeping him company, but now really isn’t good time, so maybe later,” Louis says, trying to close their bedroom on Zayn.

“No,” Zayn says, pushing the door so Louis can’t close it. “I know you’re lying to me, and whatever, I don’t care. Actually I do, but if Niall’s upset, then you should take care of that, but this is also really important for Harry. He wants the two of you down there for this.”

“I understand that, but now really isn’t a good time. Niall’s upset right now, and he doesn’t want to do anything other than have a lie in, so please just leave it alone. I’m sure you’ll figure out something to tell Harry.”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, nodding his head. He can feel a bit of anger and annoyance swirling around inside of him. “I’ll just go downstairs and tell Harry that he wasted two hours trying to do something special for the two of you because neither of you are going to see it. So you can have one upset child and I’ll take the other, maybe we can pass Liam back and forth.”

He turns to leave, ignoring Louis as he goes, and makes his way back downstairs. Harry’s standing in the living room in front of the coffee table smiling at Zayn; he’s wearing a pair of khaki colored pants, a navy button up with a clip on tie that actually belongs to Liam. He told Zayn that he needed to dress his best, but refused to give any more details about what he was going to do to fix Niall and Louis’ upset moods.

“Daddy and Niall, they wanted to come down,” Zayn says as he sits down on the couch next to Liam, still in his pajamas, and motions for Harry to come stand in front of him. “They really did want to come down here, but Niall’s really upset, so it’s going to be just the three of us today. You can show Liam and I what you had planned, yeah? We want to see it, right, Liam?”

Liam nods his head. “Yes.”

“See? Do you think you can show just the two of us?”

“But…” Harry frowns, his bottom lip jutting out. “What about Daddy and Niall?”

“Oh, baby,” Zayn says, wrapping his arms around Harry and pulling him close. He brushes his fingers through Harry’s hair. “You can show Liam and I, we’d be so happy to see what you planned. Can you show us?”

“Need Daddy and Niall,” Harry mumbles sadly into the soft cotton of Zayn’s shirt.  
Zayn’s about to open his mouth to reply but he’s interrupted by the sound of Louis’ voice coming from the stairs saying, “We're here. Daddy and Niall are here.”

Harry pulls away from Zayn’s chest, smiles happily at Zayn at the sound of Louis’ voice. “Fix my hair,” he says, hands brushing at his curls. “You messed it all up. I brushed it.”

“All right, hold still,” Zayn says, avoids saying how the back of Harry’s hair has been standing up since he woke up, and that he doesn’t think he did the best job brushing it. Instead he combs his fingers through Harry’s curls, parting it on the side and smoothing it down in the back.

Harry shrugs out of his grip and goes back to standing a few feet away, smiling at the four of them. Zayn glances over in time to see Liam crawling into his lap right before Louis and Niall sit down on the couch; Niall sat in Louis’ lap. Louis smiles at Zayn when they make eye contact, shrugs his shoulders and turns to look at Harry.

“Why are we down here?” Niall asks, settling back against Louis.

“You’re sad,” Harry says carefully. “And I’m going to fix it, okay? I’m going to fix your sad and make you feel better.”

“How?” Niall asks skeptically. “You don’t even know what’s wrong, you’re just guessing.”

“Knock-knock,” Harry says.

“Who’s there?” Niall says back.

“Boo.”

“Boo who?”

“Boo who, don’t be sad because Harry is going to fix it,” Harry says, smiling widely at the four of them, and Zayn can’t help but laugh, the rest of them laughing as well when Harry finishes the joke. He had no idea that Harry’s idea of fixing their sadness would be a comedy hour.

“Why did the chicken cross the road, Daddy?” Harry says, aiming his next jokes for Louis.

“I don’t know, why?” Louis says back, shaking his head as he smiles at Harry.

“Um, it was a baby chicken, okay, and he was afraid to cross the street because the daddy chicken wasn’t holding his hand,” Harry says. “Knock-knock.”

“Who’s there,” Niall says.

“Harry.”

“Harry who?”

“Harry Tomlinson,” Harry says, holding his arms out in the air.

The entire room laughs, Zayn reckons they’re all laughing at how bad the jokes are, Liam simply laughing because everyone else is, but Niall’s smiling and Zayn thinks it’s worth it to sit down in front of Harry and listen to him as he butchers the world of comedy. 

In the end, Harry has told seven different chicken crossing the road stories, and twelve knock-knock jokes, all of which are worse than the ones before. It’s cuter than anything, watching as Harry tries his hardest to tell a joke but messing it up in the punch line. It had them all laughing though, everyone one in the house partaking in the crazy antics, except for Liam who fell asleep, body going limp from sleep. 

“Did I fix it?” Harry asks after everyone is finished clapping for him. 

“It was amazing, Harry,” Louis says. “I don’t know anyone who can tell jokes like you do, thank you.” 

“You made Liam fall asleep,” Niall says, giggling behind his hand. 

Harry frowns, glances over at Liam, fast asleep on Zayn’s lap. He looks at him for a moment and Zayn’s worried that Harry is about to get upset all over again. “That’s okay,” Harry says, much to Zayn’s relief. “Liam’s a baby.” 

“It’s also nap time,” Zayn says, passing Liam off to Louis, who has gotten Niall off his lap in order to take the sleeping boy. “That means you too, Harry.”

Harry huffs, releasing a sigh before he allows Louis to pick him up and carry him up the stairs as well. 

Zayn watches them go, waits until they disappear from his sight until he looks over at Niall. They haven’t been alone together all day, and while he’s glad that Harry’s little comedic act was able to put Niall in a good mood, he’s also left wondering what’s going on with his eldest. 

“You all right?” Zayn asks, scooting closer to Niall. 

Niall shrugs his shoulders, doesn’t answer though, and just stares in front of them at where Harry was just standing. “I’m fine,” Niall says, and Zayn doesn’t really believe him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Niall shakes his head. “Can’t.” 

“You can tell me,” Zayn says. “Anything, you can tell me anything.” 

“I can’t talk to you about this. But are you...are you going to leave? Like when you remember and stuff, are you going to leave?” Niall asks, biting his bottom lip as he turns to look at Zayn. 

“I mean, I might have to go back to see the doctor,” Zayn says, shrugging his shoulders. “But I don’t think so. I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask your dad what they said. I can’t remember.”

Niall shakes his head, frowning. “No, not like that. I mean are you going to leave this house, like, forever?” 

“No, of course not,” Zayn answers immediately and without hesitation. He doesn’t even have to think about his answer, doesn’t even take a moment to wonder why Niall would ask him something like that. “Why would I leave? Are you leaving?”

“No, but Uncle Nick said I could go to his house if I didn’t want to be here, but I don’t want to leave.”

Zayn frowns. “Why would you go over to Uncle Nick’s house?” 

“He said that if I wanted to be alone then I could come to his house for the day, and he’d let me eat junk food, and sleep all day. He said he wouldn’t tell you or Dad, but I just told you because I don’t really want to go over there today. I want to stay at home,” Niall says. 

“Of course, yeah, you don’t have to go over there. I don’t know why he’d offer that. Is it, I mean, do you feel comfortable with Uncle Nick? Like, does he normally ask you to come over? I can’t… I can’t remember stuff like that,” Zayn says, the first time in a while he feels like an idiot for not being able to remember anything about his life. 

“Sometimes he does, but not always. Uncle Nick is weird. He used to call me Nigel.” 

“He did?”

“Yeah,” Niall says, giggling. “My dad told me. I don’t remember it; I was little when he did it. Sometimes he still does, like when Dad isn’t here and he wants to make me laugh.”

“I’m going to nap, like Harry and Liam. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course. You don’t have to ask to sleep. If you need to sleep then go ahead.” 

“Will you still be here when I wake up?” Niall asks nervously. 

“Yeah, yeah of course. I’m not going anywhere,” Zayn says. 

“Good, because I don’t want you to leave,” Niall says right before he turns and walks up the stairs. Zayn’s eyes follow him, frowning in confusion, wanting to ask what that meant, why he mentioned Zayn leaving twice in one conversation, but he doesn’t. Instead, Niall makes his way up the stairs, pausing in the middle of them to ask Louis to take a nap with him. 

~~~ 

“Everyone, you have to stay in your seats because Liam and I made a little surprise for everyone,” Zayn says, standing up and grabbing everyone’s dinner plates. “While you all were taking a nap we decided to do something to make sure everyone is in a happy mood when they go to bed tonight.” 

Zayn makes his way to the sink, dropping the plates in the sink before he makes his way towards the fridge, pulling the door open. “Liam, tell them what it is.” 

“It’s a cake,” Liam shouts. “A smiley cake.”

It’s chocolate with chocolate icing, a green smiley face drawn on it by Liam. 

“You baked a cake,” Harry shouts. “You baked a cake without me?” 

Zayn kicks the fridge door closed behind him, carries the cake over towards the table, setting it down in the middle so all three boys can admire it. Harry reaches a finger out when Zayn sets it down, swipes it across the icing to get a taste of it. 

“I wanted to make something, so Liam and I went through the cabinets and Liam decided on a cake, right?”

“For you birthday,” Liam says to Niall. 

“It’s not my birthday,” Niall says. “It’s nobodies birthday, we get cake when it’s nobodies birthday?” 

“You baked a cake? Because he was upset?” Louis asks, looking surprised and a little bit amazed if Zayn had to guess. 

Zayn shrugs his shoulders. 

“I did smiley,” Liam says, pointing towards the cake and nodding his head at everyone. 

“You’re so good, Lili,” Harry says, excitedly. “Can we eat it?” 

“Yeah, let me get some plates. One second,” Zayn says, turning around to head back towards the kitchen cabinets on the other side of the room. 

“Hey,” Louis says, following Zayn to the kitchen for plates. “Thank you.”

Zayn cocks his head to the side, confused about why Louis is thanking him. “For what? I haven’t done anything.”

“You baked Niall a cake, that’s something.” 

Zayn shrugs his shoulders again because it’s really not a big deal. “Yeah, well… I had to do something. He won’t tell me what’s wrong, you won’t tell me what’s wrong, so I wanted to do something to let him know that I cared about him and that I didn’t want him to be upset. I mean… Niall asked me if I was going to leave, twice actually.”

“He did?”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, nodding his head. “At first I thought he meant, like, going to the store or something, but then it became clear that he meant he thought I was going to leave this family.”

“What did you say?” Louis asks nervously, his expression inquisitive as he chews on his bottom lip. 

“I said I wasn’t leaving. Why would I leave? Why would he think that?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. 

“It was weird. He said he couldn’t tell me why he was upset. He just said he can’t and then asked me if I was going to leave when I remember. Is that weird?”

“Kids says a lot of weird stuff when they’re upset. I wouldn’t think too much into it, you probably made him feel better just by saying that, and for baking him a cake. The quickest way to Niall’s heart is through his stomach, plus chocolate fixes everything.” 

“Good, because I’m sick of seeing him frown, or not seeing him at all because he’s locked in our bedroom with you. And you’re both lucky there are two other children that needed to be taken care of, because if there weren’t then I would have been sitting at the door with my ear pressed against the wood, trying to listen to what you were talking about. Or picking the lock, something,” Zayn says, pulling out five small plates from the cabinet. “Can you get a knife and some forks?” 

“Yeah, um, one second. In a second,” Louis says. 

Zayn glances over at Louis and sees as he releases what appears to be a deep breath, staring at Zayn with… something, something unreadable that Zayn has never seen before flash across Louis’ features before the other boy is leaning over and pressing his mouth against Zayn’s. 

It’s soft at first, like Louis is afraid of what Zayn’s reaction might be, and it takes a moment for Zayn’s eyes to drift closed, and for him to kiss back. And then, they’re kissing and Zayn’s can’t remember doing this before, can’t remember the feel of Louis’ lips against his, but he’s feeling it now, and it’s… Zayn’s head is spinning as he leans into it, kissing back as the kiss transitions from being soft to something else, something deeper with more need. 

Louis is the one to pull away, and Zayn’s eyes blink open slowly to see Louis looking at him with a small smile on his face before he turns around, grabbing the knife and forks that Zayn asked him to grab, taking the plates from Zayn and going back to the table - Niall, Liam, and Harry are all arguing over which part they want to eat - to cut the cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't catch my context clue at the end of the last chapter, as well as the one in this where Niall tells Zayn he can't leave, this is an anniversary of Eleanor leaving their family. Harry and Liam were both too young to understand what happened or remember her, but I wanted to twist this chapter and show it from Zayn's side rather than Louis' because I missed writing Zaynie. Also, I had to make little Harry's jokes as bad as big Harry's jokes, didn't I?


	21. Chapter 21

“Louis, I swear to God,” Zayn groans, shoving Louis in the back once more. “Wake up, wake up.” 

Louis groans in his sleep again, waves his hand in Zayn’s direction, mumbling a little before he falls back asleep. Zayn stares down at him, glaring at his husband as he continues to try and wake him. He pulls the blanket off Louis’ body, tosses it onto the floor. Louis whines a little, rolls over, and curls against Zayn’s side, shoving his face into Zayn’s side. 

Zayn frowns at him and reaches out to pinch Louis’ side; it only causes Louis to frown in his sleep, rubbing his nose against Zayn’s skin. Zayn sighs in frustration, poking Louis once more before he considers his efforts futile. It’s been twenty minutes of trying to wake the other boy up and nothing has come out of it. 

The thing is, Zayn can’t sleep; there’s too much on his mind, and after spending countless hours lying in bed and listening to Louis’ breathing he’s been struck with a memory. It’s fuzzy and grey around the edges; he’s been itching to talk about it since it came into his mind. He doesn’t know if it’s really a memory, if it’s something that belongs to his life or not. It feels like he’s watching an old Hollywood movie where the film cracks and breaks on the screen, taking away bits and pieces of the image, turning grainy from years of being left behind after they’ve been used for so long. 

He can wait, he supposes, to discuss the details with Louis until the morning. His newfound memory isn’t even his main concern, nor is it the reason that Zayn hasn’t been able to sleep. 

Zayn can’t stop thinking about reasons that Niall might have been so upset the day before; it’s an itch that he can’t reach, but wants to. He wants to know so badly why his eldest was so upset throughout the day, feels like he has a right to know something like this, even if Niall went to sleep with a smile on his face after making Zayn promise again that’ll he’ll always stay. 

He just can’t help but feel like there is so much there that he doesn’t know about, that there is so much being hidden from him. And the worst part is, is that Zayn can’t think of anything, he has no collection of memories in his mind to work with in order to formulate a reason behind Niall being so upset. 

He just wishes he knew what made Niall so upset, and it’s been eating away at him since yesterday morning when he first noticed something was wrong. It bothers him a little bit more that Louis gets to know and he doesn’t. 

But that’s not the only thing; Zayn also can’t stop thinking about their kiss. Zayn doesn’t know how to describe it, the shock he felt when Louis pressed his lips against his. He hadn’t expected Louis to do that; he figured he’d have to find his own way to test the waters of their intimate relationship. He hadn’t even really thought about their relationship in a way that involved romance and intimacy. He chalked it up to the fact that they have three young children, and it’s impossibly hard to get a moment to yourself, let alone two parents disappearing for a moment just for them. He can just imagine Harry knocking on the door asking why it’s locked and why he can’t come in. It’d be an absolute nightmare. 

So he gets it, why it’s never happened before now, they probably weren’t that intimate to begin with, which is fine. He just wishes he could understand Louis’ behavior after the kiss, why he became shyer, and more tentative when Zayn was near him. He couldn’t help but notice the gentle touches, the soft brushes of Louis’ fingers against his skin. Even now, while Louis is sound asleep, he’s curled up against Zayn’s side, something he hasn’t done before, or at least Zayn can’t remember him doing it before. 

He pokes Louis in the ribs again, watching as he jerks a little at the feeling, but ultimately stays asleep. Zayn sighs, accepting that he won’t be able to talk to Louis about any of this tonight. He shoves at Louis, pushing him further over on the bed so he can lie down. He’s getting ready to retrieve the blanket off the floor when he hears it. 

“Liam, we’re going to Daddy and Poppy’s room, okay?” 

Zayn turns his head towards the voice, recognizes it to be Harry’s, he laughs under his breath, realizing it’s the first time that he can remember ever being awake to catch Liam and Harry sneaking into his bed at night. 

“Okay,” Liam mumbles back, and Zayn can hear as he lets out a yawn. 

“Liam, be quiet,” Zayn hears Harry mutter in the darkness. He rolls onto his side, propping up on his elbow to get a better look at the two small shadows in the hallway, getting closer and closer to his door. 

He watches as two dark outlines push his door open all the way, smacking against the wall with a clatter, and he hears Harry make a shushing sound - he can see in his head the stern look that Harry’s giving Liam, even though it’s obvious Harry is leading the two of them and he’s the one who shoved the door open, judging by the wild hair outline Zayn can make out in the darkness that continues getting closer and closer to the bed - he takes the opportunity to grab the blanket off the floor, and put it back on the bed properly while Harry and Liam make their way over towards the bed. 

“Harry, what are you doing?” Zayn asks when he feels small hands tugging on the blankets. He sits up and glances over the side of the bed, sees Liam wobbling as he stands, looking up at Zayn with sleepy eyes while Harry climbs the bed. 

“Oh my goodness, Poppy, you scared me,” Harry says, settling on the bed. “Good morning.” 

Zayn leans over the bed, and helps Liam onto it, setting him down next to him in the middle of the bed so he’s not close to the edge. “Good night, Harry,” Zayn whispers. “Lie down.” 

Harry nods his head, leans over and kisses Zayn’s cheek before he walks across the pillows and curls up against Louis’ side. Zayn settles back, lying down, holding the blankets open for Liam, who crawls under them and rests his head on Zayn’s arms. He looks tired, his eyes blinking up at Zayn tiredly, fighting the ability to stay awake. He wonders if Liam does this every night, wakes up in a haze, and is forced out of his bed by Harry, who seems all too willing to climb into Zayn and Louis’ bed every night. 

He shakes his head as he thinks about it, using the hand Liam’s not sleeping on to reach up and brush his fingers through Liam’s hair until his eyes finally drift closed. 

~~~

“I tried to wake you up last night,” Zayn says once the kids have been fed and sent on their way, messing around with different things in the other room. 

Louis looks at him for a moment, frowning in confusion, and shaking his head. “No, I don’t remember. What did you want?” 

“A lot of things,” Zayn admits. 

“Well,” Louis starts holding his arms out. “I’m all yours, and awake, so if you still want to talk, or whatever it is you wanted then go ahead, otherwise I’m going to shower.” 

Zayn takes a deep breath, filters through the thoughts in his mind about what he wants to ask Louis first, he weighs the options in his mind and figures that he’ll start with something he knows won’t get answer, and work his way up to what he wants to discuss the most.

“Why was Niall upset yesterday?” Zayn asks first. 

Louis looks at him, shakes his head. “I told you before, I can’t answer that. It’s not… Everything is okay, yeah? Can you just trust me on that?”

“I figured you wouldn’t tell me, that’s why I started with that. I figured we might as well get that out of the way. No chance I can force you to tell me is there?”

“Nope,” Louis says, shaking his head again. “I will tell you that it’s nothing serious, and you shouldn’t be worried about him. He’s happy today, right? He’s much happier than he was; it was just a little bout of sadness, okay? You made him feel better, he felt loved and that’s what he needed. You fixed it, so don’t worry about why he was sad, because it’s not important.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about next, actually,” Zayn says slowly. “I made Niall feel better with a simple chocolate cake, but you… You looked at me like I parted the ocean for him, like I strung the stars in the sky, something otherworldly and miraculous, not something that took almost no thought and forty minutes to make, an hour and a half actually since Liam was helping. You kissed me because I made a cake… Why?” 

Louis looks nervous for a second, like it’s not what he expected Zayn to ask. He watches as Louis studies him for a moment, tilting his head to the side. “You made him happy, I was saying thank you.” 

“I’m his father, isn’t it my job to make sure he’s happy? You just… it seems like something more. I’ve been out of the hospital for months and you haven’t kissed me yet. Why did you wait?” 

“I was respecting you,” Louis says slowly, like he’s trying to choose his words right, calculating his answer in his head before he lets it slip past his lips. “You couldn’t remember your name, or me, or any of those kids. You weren’t comfortable here, no matter how seamlessly you slipped into it.” 

“Force of habit,” Zayn says, interrupting Louis. “My subconscious probably knew what I needed to do.”

Louis looks at him for a moment before he nods slowly. “Maybe,” he says slowly. “But you weren’t fully comfortable here, and I didn’t want to jeopardize—no, ruin your progress with your memory, right? How would have felt if I had tried to put the moves on you months back? How would you have felt if I had tried anything with you? It would have pushed your progress back.”

“It could have helped me remember,” Zayn says. “You didn’t even try. I chose to sleep in the same bed with you, how would you know what I would have been comfortable doing?”

“You’re right, I didn’t know, but I made the decision to not do anything like kiss you. Maybe I should have asked you but unless you have a way to make it to the past then there really isn’t anything I can do about it now.” 

“What about when I kissed you on the cheek? You didn’t think maybe I was ready then?” 

“I don’t know,” Louis says, throwing his hands up in the air. “I told you, I didn’t want to push you. I didn’t want to. I just, I didn’t.” Louis groans in frustration. “You know what, fine. You want to be kissed so bad then let’s kiss.” He stomps across the room, grabs Zayn’s cheeks and pulls him into a kiss. It’s short and sweet, just a slight press of their lips together. Pulling away he looks at Zayn for a moment. “Better or do I need to kiss you enough to make up for all the kisses you think you missed out on?” 

“You’re so weird,” Zayn mumbles. 

“You’re whining about wanting to be kissed by me, so what does that say about you?” Louis asks, stilling holding onto Zayn’s face. 

Zayn smiles at him, shrugs his shoulders. He leans forward and kisses Louis again, the third kiss he can remember but the first time he’s initiated it. Louis’ lips are thin, and soft, and they move together with Zayn’s like it’s an instinctual behavior their bodies are supposed to be doing, like breathing, or the beating of their hearts. It doesn’t feel like the third time, or the third time he can remember at least, because it feels like something he’s been doing with Louis far longer than he remembers. Kissing Louis doesn’t make him remember that he’s forgotten everything, but it makes him forget that he can’t remember everything, and he thinks that’s a fair trade. 

“Better?” Louis asks, pulling away, and taking a step back. 

“Not yet,” Zayn says. “I have one more thing I wanted to talk to you about.” 

“All right, throw it at me,” Louis says. 

“Last night while I was trying to fall asleep I remembered something.”

“And you didn’t wake me?” Louis asks, his voice raising an octave. 

“I tried,” Zayn replies. “I pushed you, I poked you, I shook you, I did everything and you would not wake up. I threw the blankets off the bed in an angry fit that you were still sleeping. Are you joking? I wanted to tell you as soon as I remembered, but you wouldn’t wake.”

“All right, all right, maybe that’s true. Maybe. What did you remember?” 

“I don’t know, it’s fuzzy and unclear what it is, but I’m pretty sure it’s a locker room,” Zayn explains. He watches as Louis’ body goes rigid, his smile slowly fading as he looks at Zayn. “I might be wrong.”

“What else?” 

“Nothing, it’s like I can see myself walking across a gymnasium, yeah? And I know it’s me, or at least I think it’s me, but it’s a big room that’s covered in wooden floor and big white walls with bleachers attached to the sides and basketball hoops at the end. I’m walking across it and I got into another room, it’s white and there are tons of grey colored lockers in different rows. And then it’s like I just can’t remember anymore. I feel like it’s important, you know? Like I need to remember this, but I can’t figure it out.” 

Louis is still looking at him as he finishes. He’s studying Zayn carefully; his body still looks tense, like he’s worried about something. “The first time you kissed a boy was in that locker room. It’s our high school locker room that you’re remembering. You’re probably remembering your first kiss with a guy.”

“Maybe, but why wouldn’t I be able to remember a kiss? It’s like I got into the locker room and that’s it. Nothing else. I literally have nothing after that, it’s like I’m surrounded by fog when I turn away from one of the lockers. I walk into the locker room, I go directly to one locker, and then, I can’t remember anything. Nothing. Why wouldn’t I be able to remember a kiss after that?” 

“Probably because you’ve been obsessing over kissing me,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Ha ha,” Zayn says, rolling his eyes. “Louis, I’m being serious.”

“I don’t know, I don’t… Listen, I’m going to take you out,” Louis says slowly. “I’ll call Nick to watch the kids, so you need to go shower and get dressed. We’re going out tonight, okay?” 

He turns to leave before Zayn gets the chance to answer, before Zayn gets a chance to ask why Louis looked worried when he mentioned the locker room. He wants to know more, but figures he can save it for another time.


	22. Chapter 22

“No, no, no,” Nick says when he opens his front door. 

“I called you before I came,” Louis says, pushing the door open, ushering all three of his kids inside. Harry immediately latches onto Nick’s legs, smiling up at him when Nick sighs heavily. Niall is still holding Liam’s hand, pulling him towards the other side of the room where he lets go and starts rummaging through Nick’s stuff. “Please don’t act like you weren’t aware we were coming.” 

“I didn’t think I’d have all three of them,” Nick says. “I thought maybe you’d divide them up, give me Liam or something. He’s probably the easiest to take care of. I’ll take Liam.” 

“You don’t really get a choice, sorry,” Louis says, dropping three bags down on the ground next to the door. “We’ll stop by tomorrow morning to get them, possibly tomorrow afternoon at about lunchtime.” 

“And what will you and the wife be doing?” Nick asks. “While I’m stuck here doing your responsibilities.” 

Louis rolls his eyes, because Nick is acting like he didn’t just promise Niall his entire apartment if he got too sad. Or, like Nick wasn’t there helping Louis as much as he could when Eleanor first left. Or, like Nick hasn’t been in the kids’ lives their entire lives. He lets it slide, knows how hard it can be for Nick to give up his indifferent façade when in the presence of company. 

“We don’t have anything planned,” Louis lies. “Sometimes you just need a break from your kids, especially when there are three of them. People get tired, Nicholas.”

“I’m sure they do,” Nick says. 

“They do,” Louis replies primly. “Now, they've all had naps today, minus Niall since he’s too old for them, but Harry and Liam need to be in bed by half past 8, you can push it to 9, if you want, but Liam doesn’t handle staying up late very well. Don’t let them fight you on that. Niall knows when his bedtime is, don’t let him stay up past 10 though, Zayn will kill us both. And everything else…um, you can figure it out, or Niall can help you.”

“Uncle Nick, do you have any good movies?” Niall asks, and Louis glances over to see him turning away from the stack of DVD’s to look in their direction.

“They’re all good,” Nick protests. 

“They don’t look like it,” Niall says, picking up the DVD on top and looking at it in distaste. 

“Okay, hugs and kisses,” Louis says, clapping his hands together, preventing Nick from replying to Niall. 

Harry rushes forward first, pushing himself off of Nick and diving into Louis’ arms. 

“Can you be good for Uncle Nick?” Louis asks, pulling Harry into a hug. 

“I’m always good,” Harry asks, pulling away. 

“I know you are. Can you make sure that Liam has fun? Don’t let him hide the entire night, okay?”

“Yes,” Harry says, tapping his cheek for a kiss. When he gets one Harry turns around immediately and calls to Liam, “Liam come say bye.”

Liam stands from his position behind Niall and stares at Nick, ignoring Louis’ request completely. Niall sighs and grabs Liam’s hand, pulling him across the room until he’s close enough to Louis that Louis can pull him into a hug. He kisses the top of Liam’s head, promises that he’s going to have fun and that Uncle Nick isn’t as scary as he looks before he hugs Niall, and makes him promise that he’ll take care of Liam and keep Harry off of Nick. 

“Good luck,” Louis says to everyone in the room as he closes the door behind him. 

~~~ 

Louis takes Zayn to a fancy restaurant across town. He’s never been before, heard Nick talk about how a date took him there and how beautiful the interior was, and how delicious the meals were. Walking inside of the restaurant Louis can agree that the interior is beautiful. The walls are made of a creamy grey colored stone with minimalist art lining the walls. The lights are chandeliers with black steel in the shape of a square with the light coming from fixtures that look like candles, a hundred of them on each chandelier. The tables are covered with white cloth, black leather chairs and bright red booths along the back walls. Louis is glad that he listened when Nick talked about his date because he’s right, this place is really beautiful, and judging by the gasp that leaves Zayn’s mouth as their lead to their table by a man in black pants and a white button down, he thinks the restaurant is just as nice. 

They’re seated at a booth in the back, in the corner so they’re separate from the couple two booths over. It’s a perfect view of the entire restaurant. 

“This is so nice,” Zayn says. “We don’t belong in a place like this.”

“What are you talking about?” Louis asks, looking at Zayn in confusion. They’re both dressed nice. Louis found a pair of black dress pants in the back of his closet and paired it with a short-sleeved blue and white pinstripe shirt and thin black suspenders. And Zayn looks just as nice with a pair of black dress pants and a black button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. They fit in just as well as anyone else. 

“I don’t know. Everyone just looks so… proper. Like, I spent the morning scrubbing syrup off our kitchen table and convincing Harry that he had to put on clean underwear. These people probably spent their mornings telling someone what to do.”

“Or, they got dressed up to spend a night away from their kids like we did,” Louis says, flipping open the menu. “For all these people know you’re a model and I own a corporate business. So, ignore them and find something on this, ridiculously expensive menu.”

Zayn smiles at him and nods his head and opens his own menu. 

Louis orders a mushroom fettuccine and Zayn orders the salmon. And when it arrives Louis mouth is watering because it looks better than he expected it to be. He’s going to kiss Nick tomorrow when he picks the kids up in thanks for talking about this all those months ago. He’s sure that Zayn is going to kiss him, unknowing on his end that this place is all on Nick. 

“This is embarrassing to every meal I’ve ever cooked,” Zayn says, taking a bite of his salmon. “I feel like McDonalds.” 

Louis shakes his head, twirls more noodles onto his fork and takes his own bite. “You make decent food.”

“You’re just sucking up, trying to make sure you don’t have to cook again.”

“Cooking is all yours, remember?” Louis says, taking a sip of water. Zayn rolls his eyes but nods his head, knows that he’s the one who cooks most of the meals in their house. 

“So tell me, Louis Tomlinson, do you always take me out to a places like this on our dates?”

Louis shrugs his shoulders, takes another bite of his food to avoid answering right away. If he’s being honest, he really doesn’t know where he would have taken Zayn if they had properly dated and gotten married like normal people, instead of being in some pretend marriage that Louis lied to him about. He thinks about where he and Eleanor used to date before they got married, little cafes around campus before they had Niall and then they were too busy to go out. If they did it was always to places that were kid friendly, nothing as nice as what Zayn and he are in right now. When Harry was born was when the dates stopped completely, and when Liam was born the word wasn’t even uttered, so he has no idea what to tell Zayn. 

“You probably did,” Zayn says as Louis swallows his bite of food. “You’re romantic, I can tell. I might not be able to remember, but I can tell. You waited to kiss me because you were worried about how it would affect me getting my memory back, that’s something a gentleman does, someone who really cares about you. And we’ve been together for so long that you wouldn’t need to take me some place like this in order to impress me, I mean, we have three kids together, right, so what is there to impress?” 

“Right,” Louis says slowly, nodding his head. “Nothing to impress when you’re a father.”

“Nothing to impress when you’re you,” Zayn says, and Louis looks up to see that he’s watching him closely, soft smile on his face. “I’ve stopped wishing I could remember.”

“Why?” Louis asks, his expressions shocked as he looks at Zayn. 

“I’m happy with my life now, so I know that I was happy with it before. I, obviously, wish that I could remember it, but I’ve stopped trying to find ways to make it happen. Have you noticed that I don’t ask you to tell me new memories? I don’t need them to come to me with as much urgency as I did before, because I’m happy. I have you and the boys; I have things and people that matter now, so it’s easy to forget that I missing so much.” 

Louis nods his head and swallows thickly, he’s grateful that he has a full stomach because his head is spinning from everything Zayn just said. He needs to say something so he settles on saying, “you’re so different from what I thought.”

“What do you mean?” Zayn asks in confusion, eating the last bit of his food.

The waiter drops their check on the table and Louis holds a finger up from him to wait, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and handing his card over before he answers. 

“At first I thought you were selfish and spoiled and rude, but you’re… You’re none of those things. I was wrong about you. I was so fucking wrong,” Louis says, shaking his head. 

“When did you think that?” Zayn asks. 

“A long time ago,” Louis says. “A really long time ago.”

“Well, good thing you changed your mind, right? Where would we be if you hadn’t?” 

Louis shrugs his shoulders, mutters a quiet ‘thanks’ to the waiter when he drops their check and his card back at their table, wishes them a good night and leaves. 

“Are you happy you were wrong about me?” Zayn asks.

Louis takes a deep breathe and looks at Zayn. “Yeah. I am.”

Zayn smiles and nods his head. “Let’s go home,” Zayn says, sliding out of the booth. He stands next to the table while Louis signs the check and sets a tip down. He pulls himself out of his side of the booth and stands up next to Zayn, who smiles at him softly, grabbing his hand, interlocking their fingers together as they walk out of the restaurant. 

~~~

It’s weird coming home to utter silence, no kids demanding your attention, no loud noises from toys, or the television playing some cartoon. It’s Louis first night alone with Zayn and he’s nervous and scared, irrationally so, like they’ve received a threatening phone call and they’re just waiting for something bad to happen. There’s not threatening call, but fear and anxiety are still there. 

Zayn looks at ease, smiling from across the room as he changes out of his clothes and into a pair of pajamas. 

Louis is already in bed, reading over the texts that Nick sent him throughout the night about the boys, all of them are positive, a few asking how you get Harry to stop hugging you, one that said Liam knocked over a vase and cried for half an hour and wouldn’t stop until Nick broke one as well and said they were going out for ice cream as soon as he cleaned it up. Louis feels bad that he missed it, wishes he could have talked to Liam to let him know that it was okay, but there’s nothing he can do about it now, so he puts his phone on the night stand and turns in time to see Zayn crawling in bed next to him. He’s lying on his side, smiling at Louis. 

“I liked tonight,” Zayn says. “I liked getting out of the house and being alone with you.”

“I had fun, too,” Louis says, sliding down on his pillow until he’s lying on side facing Zayn. “You were good company, but I think the food was better.”

“I’d be insulted if it wasn’t true, but dinner was amazing.”

He’s glad that Zayn can tell he’s only teasing, because Zayn was probably the best part of the evening, being alone with him and not having to talk about why he isn’t remembering something, or if they used to do this or used to do that, or talk about the kids and everything else they discuss a million times a day. It was nice to break routine, but now he’s tired, and he can’t wait to see his kids again in the morning. 

“Are you going to turn the light off?” Louis asks, nudging his head in the direction of the lamp on behind Zayn. 

Zayn looks at him for a moment before he scoots closer, sliding across the bed until he’s so close that Louis’ eyes begin to cross as he tries to focus in on him. He doesn’t get to ask what Zayn is doing because he feels it, Zayn’s lips pressed against his. It takes a second for Louis’ eyes to flutter closed and for him to begin kissing back. 

It’s light at first, and Louis heart pounds in his chest as he presses harder. Zayn’s just brushed his teeth so his mouth tastes like mint when Louis licks his way inside, running his tongue along Zayn’s. 

Zayn’s making pleased noises in the back of his throat as he cups his hands on Louis’ jaw. Louis doesn’t know where to touch because he wants to be touching him everywhere, so he rolls him over, gets Zayn on his back and crawls on top of him, one hand on the back of Zayn’s neck while the other supports his weight. 

Their mouths move together, tongue brushing against each other as they kiss. Louis doesn’t let himself think about it, just kisses him back with as much vigor as he can muster. 

Louis pulls away when he feels Zayn roll his hips, their bodies pressing together in the right places. “Zayn, I can’t,” Louis says, because he knows exactly where this is headed, exactly where he wants to be with Zayn, but he’s not sure that he can do it, not sure that he’s ready to have sex. 

“Why not?” Zayn asks, looking confused. “Is it, like, me or? What’s going on?”

“Fuck, no, it’s not you. I just, your memory is still gone and I just can’t do this. I can’t,” Louis says, dropping his head down so his forehead is pressed against the pillow under Zayn’s head. His dick is already thickening with interesting, clouding his mind of rational thinking, preventing him from coming up with a decent excuse as to why he can’t have sex with Zayn.

“It’s okay,” Zayn says, nudging Louis’ jaw with his nose, rocking his hips up into Louis’. Louis can feel that Zayn’s getting hard, his cock half hard as he rubs against Louis’ through their pants.

Louis shoves his face further into the pillow, groaning quietly at the feeling of their dicks pressing together. He pulls his face up when he catches his breath, supports himself so he’s properly hovering over Zayn’s body, looking him directly in the eyes. “You sure about this, like, fuck, I need you to tell me that you want this. Please.” 

“What are you so afraid of?” Zayn asks, reaching up to brush Louis’ hair out of his eyes. 

“I don’t want you to hate me,” Louis admits because the Zayn underneath him wants sex but he can’t be certain that the Zayn who realizes he doesn’t belong with Louis will have wanted to have sex with him. 

“Could never hate you,” Zayn says, kissing Louis jaw. “I want this, okay? I do. If you don’t, then I won’t make you, but you need to hear me say it, so this is me telling you that it’s okay.”

Louis nods his head, takes one of his hands and uses to cup Zayn’s cheek, stroking his fingers along the skin as he looks down at him. “Promise you won’t hate me, promise you’ll remember this is what you wanted.” He’s not just talking about in the morning, he’s talking about when his memory comes back. 

“I promise,” Zayn says. 

Louis releases a deep breath and nods his head once more before he sits up. He runs his fingers down Zayn’s torso, he’s already shirtless; they both are. The only thing separating their skin from touching are two pairs of thin pajama bottoms and underwear. Louis hesitates when he reaches the hem of his pants, takes a deep breath before he pulls them down entirely, tossing them off the side of the bed before he removes his own. 

He crawls back up Zayn’s naked body, studying it careful, mapping it out with his eyes. He wants to memorize it, every bump and curve of his skin, every twitch of his muscles when he moves. He wants to remember this moment because it’s they’re very first time together, the first time he’s ever seen what’s underneath Zayn’s shorts. The dark trail of pubic hair leading down to half hard dick, the lazy rise and fall of his chest as his eyes study Louis’ body. He wonders how nervous Zayn must feel, thinking that Louis remembers doing this a million times while he doesn’t, unknown to him that Louis only remembers seeing him in his underwear. 

Louis leans down and kisses him slowly; dragging his tongue across the roof of his mouth as he tries to kiss away the worry he could see written on Zayn’s features. He pulls away, smiles at Zayn as he leans over him and grabs a condom and lube from out of the drawer in the bedside table. 

“Still sure?” Louis asks.

“Yes,” Zayn says, nodding his head. “Might change my mind if you don’t get on with it, though.”

Louis laughs as he coats his fingers, trying his best to hide the fact that his hands are shaking because of how nervous he is. Apart of him wants Zayn to tell him that’s he scared as well, tell him to stop and that he’s not ready right now, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lies patiently underneath Louis and waits for him to open him up. 

He works Zayn open slowly, kissing him through it and muttering encouraging words until Zayn is telling him that he’s ready, begging for Louis to do something other than twist and turn his fingers inside of him. 

“It’s okay,” Zayn reassures as Louis grabs the condom, ready to roll it on. He kisses Louis quickly, presses his lips against his and breathes the words into his mouth. And Louis tries to believe him as he rolls the condom on, squirting more lube on his hand and working it over the condom. 

He feels numb as he gets in position, his body shaking slightly as he stares down at Zayn. His body is flushed, his chest rising and falling faster than it was before as he spreads his legs a little wider, wrapping one of them around Louis waist and gently nudging him forward. 

“Louis, please,” Zayn begs and Louis snaps out of it, nodding his head as he brings his dick down to Zayn’s ass. He leans down and kisses him as he pushes in slowly, moving slower than necessary and refraining from snapping his hips until he’s completely inside. They’re barely kissing; just breathing into each other’s mouths at this point, Louis cursing when he feels how tight Zayn is, Zayn cursing at the pressure. 

He stays still, hovering over Zayn until he wiggles a little bit and nods his head. “God, please move,” Zayn says, wrapping his arms around Louis, his leg still hitched around his waist. 

Louis moves his hips in a slow rhythm at first, careful to make sure that he’s not hurting Zayn until Zayn is literally begging for more because the pace is killing him and he’s going to kill Louis if he doesn't get something faster. 

Zayn gasps when Louis obliges, groaning into the otherwise quiet air. He thrusts into Zayn, supporting his weight above him so he can see Zayn’s face, the way his mouth drops open, his eyes roll and eyelashes flutter when Louis’ dick rubs inside of him just right, pressing against his prostate. 

He leans down and kisses him, kisses him until he’s no longer nervous, until he doesn’t remember that this is their first time having sex, that they’re only in this position because Louis lied to him, kissing him until the only thing he can think about is Zayn underneath him, moaning his name into his mouth and clamping down around him. 

Louis kisses him until he forgets about not getting close to Zayn and getting attached, kisses him until he forgets completely that he’s not actually in a relationship, in a marriage with the withering boy underneath him. 

He kisses him until he forgets that this isn’t supposed to be real, because it is, so he kisses him as he works a hand between their body and focuses on making the other boy feel as good as Louis does thrusting into him.


	23. Chapter 23

Zayn’s still asleep when Louis wakes up the following morning, their naked bodies pressed flush together as he adjusts to the morning light. It’s after ten according to the clock on the bedside table, craning his neck to check it as he carefully removes Zayn’s arm from around his waist. He slides out of bed gently, mindful of the sleeping Zayn still on the bed. He checks his phone as he sits up, sees that Nick has been sending him texts consistently since seven, a few at three in the morning.   
_  
I just woke up to Harry’s knee in my ribcage as he crawled across me. Liam had the decency to not step on me, but he’s still curled up on the other side of my bed. Harry though, Harry has his elbow in my neck. Is this some kind of joke? It’s 3:17 in the morning._

_Oh great, Niall’s here now! Lovely!_

_Your kids are so considerate to the sleep of others. No wonder you don’t show up to work on time._

_It’s seven on a weekend and your kids are awake, meaning, I am awake. Meaning, when are you coming to get them?_

_Can you come and get them?_

_I’ll give you a raise._

_I’m dropping them off at noon. At least make yourself decent. The wife also._

Louis rolls his eyes as he continues to read to texts, all of them different variations of Louis coming to get the kids. He locks his phone and sets it back down on the end table. He stands up and stretches, loosening his muscles while checking to see that Zayn is still asleep. Louis leaves Zayn on the bed as he makes his way towards the bathroom, shutting the door quietly before he starts a shower. 

He feels like he needs a little space from Zayn, images of Zayn underneath him the night before flashing through his mind as he checks the temperature of the water, deeming it okay and stepping inside. He stands underneath the spray, letting the water cascade down his body as he tries to figure out in his head what his life has become over the past few months, but more importantly what last night meant. 

Louis thought he knew what he was doing when he brought Zayn into their house, thought that Zayn would be in and out of their lives quickly, someone that the kids would forget about in a few short months. He didn’t think the amnesia would last as long as it has, he didn’t think Zayn would slip so seamlessly into their lives. He also, and most importantly, didn’t think he’d actually want Zayn around. He knows it’s still a lie, knows that Zayn really isn’t his husband and that he’s not the father to his children, but it’s so easy to forget. He went from loathing Zayn to sleeping with Zayn so quickly that he’s not sure he knows what to do anymore. 

He knows that if Zayn finds out the truth they’ll be back to where they were, two people trying to even the score of who can hurt the other one more. 

Louis sighs, turning up the temperature of the water and reaching for the shampoo when he hears the sound of the bathroom door open. He knows who it is, and his thoughts are confirmed when he sees Zayn stepping inside with sleepy eyes and a soft smile directed at Louis. He sets the shampoo bottle down and opens his arms, allowing Zayn to step inside of them. 

“Thought you had gone to get the kids,” Zayn mumbles, walking them backwards until he’s half under the water. Louis hears him sigh against his neck, welcoming the warmth of the water. 

“Nick texted and said he would bring him home at noon, so we have a couple hours before they’re here. Although, knowing Nick, they’ll be here at exactly noon.”

“I know, I read your texts,” Zayn says, pulling away and smiling at Louis. “Nick calls me your wife.” 

Louis shakes his head and pulls away from Zayn, reaching around him to grab the shampoo. “Nick’s an idiot. And what would have done if you had seen something you weren’t supposed to?” Louis asks, squirting some shampoo into his hand before passing it over to Zayn. 

“I don’t know. Why? Do you have secrets from me, Louis Tomlinson?” 

Louis looks at him for a moment, watches as Zayn squeezes the shampoo from the bottle before putting it back. He thinks now would be the time to tell Zayn, if he were a braver man, but instead he smiles at him, raises his hands to work the shampoo through his hair. “Course not.”

Zayn smiles at him. “Good. Oh, we have to clean the sheets before the kids get home,” Zayn says, working shampoo through his hair. “Don’t let me forget.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Louis says, stepping under the spray of water to rinse his hair off. “Now, can we stop talking about the kids? It’s not something I enjoy talking about when we’re naked. It’s weird.”

Zayn rolls his eyes as he steps under the water with Louis. “Conversation over.” 

“Good,” Louis mumbles, looking at Zayn. He’s standing close, only half of his head getting rinsed as Louis’ hogs the water. He watches as Zayn makes the most of it, turning around to get the back of his head wet and clean while Louis stands there. 

Louis still doesn’t understand when he became in over his head with this entire thing, but he mumbles a quiet ‘oh well’ under his breath as he spins Zayn around and kisses him. 

~~~ 

When Louis goes to work a few days later he’s met with a smug Nick passing him a stack of file folders. Louis ignores him as he sets his jacket down, browsing through the files to see what orders need to be met this week, what invoices need to be taken care, and what employees Nick wants him to yell at. The only thing he doesn’t take note of is the look Nick is giving him across their desks. 

“Louis, love, while you’re looking at that I want to ask you something.”

“And what would that be?” Louis asks, dropping the files on his desk and sitting down across from Nick. 

“I didn’t get to you ask you this weekend because the wife was there, but are you going to tell me how your little date went?”

“It’s was fine,” Louis says easily, shrugging his shoulders. “I took him to that restaurant you mentioned, the new one. It was amazing.”

“I don’t care about where you went. I care about what happened when you got home, because I’m hoping you had a better night than I did. I spent my night trying to get Liam to stop crying, which was only accomplished when I broke my favorite vase. On top of a staring problem, Liam is a bit of a crier, and of course I had to learn that the hard way, as you know. Afterwards, I had to watch kid friendly movies and drink milk, because apparently I’ll die if I don’t. Harry told me that, lovely what you’re teaching him.”

“Sounds like you had a blast with them,” Louis says. “They had fun, kept talking about it all weekend. I’m pretty sure Zayn almost banned your name from the house because of it.”

“I’m more interested in what happened while I had your kids, because I had to go through all of that and if you didn’t have sex, then you’re fired.”

“You wouldn’t fire me,” Louis says, trying to direct Nick’s attention to something else. 

“I would, actually. Now tell me that you and Zayn had sex. I’ve been dying to know. I really have.” 

“Married people have sex all the time,” Louis says, flipping open a file folder and ignoring Nick. He doesn’t want to see whatever eye roll or smug look passes across his face at the statement. Louis isn’t wrong. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, but you’re not married,” Nick says, stating the obvious. “And I’m guessing that was your not-so-fancy way of telling me you got laid.”

“I didn’t get laid,” Louis says. 

“Oh,” Nick says, frowning at Louis before his eyes light up. _“Oh.”_

“No, god, don’t.”

“You didn’t get laid, but I’m guessing Zayn did,” Nick says, waggling his eyebrows at Louis.

“Stop saying it like that. We—“ 

“Made love?” Nick says, pitching his voice up an octave and leaning forward as he practically bounces in his seat. 

“No,” Louis says firmly. “Getting laid makes it sound like a one night stand between two kids in college. That’s not what happened.”

Nick looks at him for a moment, studying him carefully before he glances down and begins to retrieve his notebook. He drops it on the desk, slamming the drawer shut before he reaches for a pen. Licking the tip of his finger, he begins flipping through pages before he stops and starts writing. Louis feigns indifference, trying to act like he doesn’t care what Nick is writing about even though he’s leaning forward slightly, trying to see. 

“What are you writing in that thing for?”

“I just wanted to mark the date down,” Nick says, capping his pen and flipping the notebook closed. “I wanted to make sure I remembered the day you officially fell for Zayn.”

“Oh god,” Louis says, rolling his eyes. “It’s nothing. People have sex all the time. He thinks we’re married. Zayn thinks that I’m his husband, he thinks we have kids together. I have to have sex with him in order to make him believe these things. That’s it. Nothing more.” 

“You should tell him now before you really fall for him,” Nick says, ignoring Louis completely. “And I mean before you reach the point where you realize you can’t live without him. It’s better to do it now before you both get hurt. Either way he’ll be hurt, but spare yourself another broken heart and tell him now.”

Louis scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re really losing it, Grimshaw. Really losing it.” He laughs lightly as he continues to shake his head. 

~~~ 

Louis is exhausted after work. An entire day of listening to Nick and having to fire someone because Nick’s too big of a baby to do it himself, probably because the person lashed out, throwing a fit in the middle of the office and forcing Louis to call security on him. It was a tiring day to say the least, which is why when he enters the house, he drops his things down by the door, makes his way across the living room and drops down on the couch. He feels his body sag in relief, his muscles loosening as he sinks down into the furniture. 

Louis can hear his kids playing in various parts of the house, Niall reciting his spelling homework in the kitchen, Harry and Liam’s voices wafting down the staircase, shouting something about building a fort in their bedroom. He tries not to focus in on them too much, there’s dull throbbing in his head and he hopes that a few quiet moments on the couch will be enough to stop it before it gets too severe. 

He’s resting his head against the back of the couch, eyes closed when he feels the couch dip next to him, the cushion bouncing as a body joins him. He doesn’t have to open his eyes to know that it’s Zayn, the only person in the house whose presence he can’t hear. 

“What’s wrong?” Zayn asks and Louis cracks an eye open, turning his head slightly to see the worried brow and genuine concern on Zayn’s face as he looks at Louis. 

“Nothing,” he says, sparing Zayn the unnecessary panic. “It was a long day.” 

“Long day,” Zayn says, nodding his head. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not much to talk about,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. “Nick’s an idiot, so naturally that started my day off beautifully. I had to listen to him ramble on about a bunch of stuff that isn’t really his business, but he’s taken it upon himself to get involved. There was a shipping today that wasn’t due for another week, so I had to argue with the shipping company because our payments are scheduled, and they receive the money on the day the shipment is supposed to arrive, not whenever they fuck up. And, the cherry on top of today had to be firing someone with absolutely no competence. I don’t know where Nick got this idiot, but he does everything wrong, and when I told him he no longer had a job he started screaming. He threw a proper fit. Not even one of my kids acts like he did. I just… I’m exhausted.” 

“Shouldn’t Nick be in charge of firing people?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t to deal with people. Like I said, he’s an idiot. God, how long do you think I can sleep before dinner? My head is throbbing.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “You’re such a baby,” he says, grabbing Louis on the shoulder and trying to pull him forward.

“Zayn, what are you doing?” Louis asks, feeling as Zayn tries to manhandle him, pulling him around until his back is no longer pressed against the couch. 

“Just, shut up,” Zayn says, easing Louis down until he’s resting his head in Zayn’s lap, Louis adjusting his own body according to accommodate the new position. 

Louis’ about to protest until he feels the soft stroke of Zayn’s fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp and temple with tender touches, adjusting the momentum of his touch as he does it. It feels surprisingly wonderful, the strokes of his fingers slowly soothing the ache in Louis’ head. 

“Oh god, this is perfect. You’re perfect. Please do this forever.”

Zayn chuckles, his stomach hitting Louis in the back of the head as he laughs. It’s oddly comfortable and Louis’ settles back against Zayn, basking in the warmth radiating off of him as his eyes slip closed. Zayn is still dragging his fingers through Louis’ hair, rubbing at his skull and humming lowly, and Louis doesn’t recognize the song but it’s enough to make his body sag in relaxation as the tension seeps out of him, so he doesn't bother asking the name of the song. 

“What are you doing?”

Louis cracks his eyes open to see Harry and Liam standing in front of them, looking back and forth between Zayn and Louis. 

“How did you get down the stairs, Liam?” Louis asks. 

Liam shies away, glancing down at the ground. 

“I helped him, Daddy. I held his hand and everything. He’s a big boy, he doesn’t need any help,” Harry says, answering for Liam. 

“All right, well, next time let me know when you need help. I don’t like it when you use the stairs without help from an adult.”

“Okay,” Liam mumbles, looking up at Louis, the pout still present. 

But before Louis can tell Liam to come curl up next to him Harry speaks. “Poppy, rub my head,” Harry says, trying to shove Zayn’s fingers out of Louis’ hair. 

“Harry, stop,” Louis says, gripping his son’s pant leg and gently tugging him away. “Sit down on the ground.”

“Why?” Harry asks, stepping back and staring at Louis with wide green eyes. “I wasn’t bad.” 

“No, you’re not in trouble. Sit down and I’ll play with your hair, okay?” 

“Oh, okay,” Harry says with a smile before he drops down on the ground, looking behind him to grab Louis’ hand and directing it to his head. “Gentle, okay?”

“I know,” Louis’ says, having run his fingers through Harry’s hair enough times to know what he’s doing. 

“Daddy mine,” Liam says, watching the exchange between Louis and Harry and pointing at the top of his head. 

Louis sighs deeply, realizing that there is no way he can he can continue to lie with his head in Zayn’s lap, feeling the way his nails scrap across his scalp in soothing circles, not when he needs both of his hands, or at least needs to be able to find a way to use one of them. 

“All right,” Louis says when Liam begins to pout, eyes shining like he could cry at any moment. “Harry, go to Poppy. Liam, come here.” He pats his lap and waits for Liam to crawl onto it and lean his head back against Louis’ chest. “I’m willing to sacrifice my own headache needs in order to keep the children happy, but you’re not off the hook,” Louis says, turning to look at Zayn. “I demand a redo.” 

“You’re so selfless, so considerate, and not the least bit difficult,” Zayn says and while his tone is teasing Louis can’t help but swallow the lump in his throat, because Zayn has no idea what Louis is in regards to his consideration to others. Louis doesn’t even know anymore. So, instead of replying, Louis drops his head on Zayn’s shoulder, turning it to the side to press a kiss to the cloth covered skin, letting it linger for a moment before he focuses his attention back to Liam.


	24. Chapter 24

“You know,” Zayn says, pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth as he stares at Louis in the bathroom mirror. “What are we going to do when Liam starts school next year?” 

Louis looks at him for a moment, pausing the action of styling his hair for work in order to do so. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, am I going to still be staying at home or should I get a job? I don’t know, I’ve just been thinking about it, because it’s really not that far away, if you think about it, and we should be talk about this, right?” Zayn asks, popping the brush back in his mouth to resume brushing his teeth. 

“We have to talk about it now?” Louis asks. “Because I have to leave for work in a couple minutes, and Liam isn’t going to school for a while now, so there really isn’t much point in talking. You’re free to think about it, but maybe we should have this conversation further down the road.” 

Zayn thinks about it for a moment, moving the brush across his molars. It’s several months until they’re close to even entertaining the idea of Liam at school, so he has nothing to worry about, but it’s just, the thought crossed his mind right before he asked, probably because he’s been watching Louis get ready for the last twenty minutes while the kids are still sleeping in their bed. 

Zayn turns around and spits his saliva and toothpaste mixture into the sink, cupping a little water and cleaning his mouth off before he shuts the tap off and turns back to look at Louis. “You’re right. I just, I mean… No, you’re right. I was just thinking about it since I was watching you get ready.” Zayn leaves out the part about how he probably couldn’t even get a job due to his memory loss anyway, at least not until it fully returns. 

Louis nods his head carefully, flicking up a section of hair and running his fingers through it. “Don’t worry about that yet, okay? Just worry about how you have three cranky boys to wake up,” Louis says with a smile.” Also, Mrs. Hamilton is going to have to drive Niall and Harry to school, I’m leaving early today.” 

“I could probably walk them faster,” Zayn says. “She drives incredibly slow.” 

“She’s an old woman, babe. Cut her some slack,” Louis says, leaning forward and kissing Zayn quickly. “I’m out of here, see you tonight.” 

Zayn watches him go, shakes his head before he goes to wake the kids up. 

~~~

Zayn has had a long day of nothing, or well, really, a long day of watching superhero movies with Liam until Harry and Niall got home. And now they’re here, courtesy of the school bus, which Zayn can’t remember them ever using before. And after several unanswered and unreturned phone calls to Louis, he realizes that Louis is tied up at work, causing him to not be able to pick the kids up, but also not be able to eat dinner with his family.

“Why isn’t Daddy at dinner?” Harry asks, turning his head up to look at Zayn when he sets his plate down in front of him. 

“I don’t know, babe,” Zayn replies, setting another down in front of Liam and then Niall. “He hasn’t answered his phone, remember? We’re just eating without him tonight.” 

“Is that allowed?” Niall asks, staring at his pasta in hunger before he glances up at Zayn. 

“Yes, I said you could eat, so you eat. I’ll try calling him again.” Zayn sets his own plate down and goes to grab the phone, pulling it off it’s dock and dialing Louis’ number, the one he’s tried calling several times today only to not get an answer. It rings once and then instantly sets off to voicemail. Zayn rolls his eyes, releasing a deep breath he turns back to the kids. “Daddy’s not answering his phone, so tonight we eat alone.”

“Alone? Without each other?” Liam asks, staring at Zayn with wide brown eyes. 

“No, without Daddy. His phone is dead, but maybe he’ll be home while we’re eating,” Zayn says, cutting Liam’s pasta in a vain attempt to make it easier for him to eat the noodles. 

“Maybe he’s never coming home,” Niall says, shoving a noodle in his mouth. “It could happen.”

Zayn sighs, watching as Liam picks up a noodle with his hand to eat, ignoring the tiny fork that Zayn set on his plate. “That’s pointless,” he mutters, dropping the knife on the table. “And why would you say that? Of course he’s coming home.” 

“He’s not,” Niall says, his tone matter of fact. “I know he’s not.”

“You’re being dramatic. I bet you learned that from him,” Zayn says with a wink. 

“I’m not, it’s happened before,” Niall protests, sticking another forkful of noodles in his mouth. “I’ve seen it.”

“I haven’t,” Harry says, looking at Niall and Zayn, his head shifting back and forth. “I didn’t. Liam, did you see it?”

“No,” Liam says seriously. “I don’t leave.”

“See, Liam doesn’t leave, Harry doesn’t leave, you don’t leave, Daddy doesn’t leave, and I don’t leave. None of us are leaving, all right? We’re all stuck with each other, even when you’re forty and begging to move out because I’m keeping you prisoner here, just like I am now,” Zayn says. 

“Promise?” Niall asks, looking at Zayn, his expression hopeful. 

“Yes,” Zayn says, sighing. “I promise to never let you leave the house. You’re grounded. Happy?”

Niall smiles and shrugs his shoulders. “I think Dad should be grounded.”

“Time out,” Harry says, nodding his head and looking at Zayn in concern. “He’s been bad.”

“No cookies,” Liam says, scrunching up his nose and smiling at Zayn. 

Zayn laughs, throwing his head back in laughter as he listens to his kids rattle off different forms of punishment for Louis. 

~~~ 

Zayn hears the front door open and close, the sound of it being locked as he leaves the kitchen and peeks around the corner to see Louis entering, dropping his things down on the chair. He’s kicking his shoes off as Zayn makes his way across the room, looking at Louis for a moment before he says, “You’re late.”

Louis startles, jumping slightly before he glances up and smiles when he sees Zayn. “Yeah, I am.”

“Why?” Zayn asks, taking a step closer to Louis. 

“It was a long day, so tiring. Everything kept falling apart at work, people are morons and I had to stay late to fix their mistakes.”

“You should have called,” Zayn says, poking Louis in the stomach. “I tried calling but you didn’t answer, your phone had died. I was worried.” 

“Sorry,” Louis says, reaching out to rest his hands on Zayn’s hips, gripping them tightly. “I did call, tried to anyway, but it wouldn’t go through, and then my phone died, and then some idiot broke one of the machines at work, so I had Nick screaming and I just lost track of time.”

“It’s all right. Kids were worried though, kept asking if you were ever coming home. They’re in bed now, so you can go up there if you want, but if you wake them then I’ll kill you. Not really of course, but it’s the threat that counts, right?”

“One of them is bound to wake me in the middle of the night, so I guess it’s all right that I can’t see them now,” Louis says, smiling. “And aren’t husbands supposed to get kissed when they come home from work? Isn’t that the standard greeting?” 

“I don’t think so,” Zayn says, playfully, shaking his head. “Maybe if they come home on time, but definitely not when they’re late and missed dinner.”

“No, I think it’s all the time,” Louis says, nodding his head. I’m pretty sure it’s all the time.”

“Oh, well then in that case,” Zayn says, smiling at Louis before he leans up and presses his lips against Louis’. He feels Louis sigh into the kiss, his grip tightening against Zayn’s hips as he kisses back, their lips moving together as Louis leads them towards the couch. They pull away for a second so Louis can sit down, resting his hands against the backs of Zayn’s knees and as guides him down. He straddles Louis’ lap, thighs enclosing Louis’ legs, and Louis brings his hands up, resting them on Zayn’s thighs and goes back to kissing him, slow and deep. 

Zayn brings his hands up to Louis’ jaw, holding onto to it as they kiss, Louis fingers digging into his thighs. Zayn loves kissing Louis, loves the feeling of their lips pressed together, mouths moving together, tongues sliding together, but for some reason his mind is drifting off to thoughts of the cloudy memory he has of a locker room, the one where Louis said he had his first kiss. He tries to rid his mind of those thoughts, tries to focus in on the kiss, but he can’t, no matter how hard he tries. 

Zayn open his eyes and sighs, slowly pulling away. “Do you remember when you told me about my first kiss?” Zayn asks, looking into Louis’ eyes. 

Louis frowns at him, scrunching his eyebrows up as he looks at Zayn. “You’re kissing me but thinking about that?” He asks with a huff of laughter. 

Zayn rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “It’s not like that,” he says.

Louis looks thoughtful for a moment, digging his fingers a little harder into Zayn’s thighs. “What’s it like then?” 

“A while ago you told me that you caught me, right? That you caught me kissing some boy in the locker rooms at school, and you said that maybe I was remembering that, so I started thinking, and well, you said that I was angry when you found me kissing that boy. You said that I made sure to let you know that I was angry, right?”

“I said that,” Louis says carefully, nodding his head as he curls his fingers against Zayn’s thighs. 

“Can you tell me how it happened? Can you tell me what I did that made you think I was angry?”

“Zayn, it’s not—it doesn’t matter. We don’t need to talk about this,” Louis says, shaking his head. He tries to move Zayn off his lap, moves his hand to the underside of Zayn’s thighs to try and gently push him off but Zayn shifts his weight, pressing down against Louis’ legs underneath him and gripping onto Louis’ hands. 

“Please? I just want to know. Please. You promised to tell me memories and this is a memory that involves you, I want to know. I remember the locker room, but I don’t know what happened, but you do, so can you please, please tell me,” Zayn begs, pulling Louis’ hands off his thighs so he can squeeze them tightly. 

Louis looks torn, like he doesn’t know what to do or say, his eyes shifting around like he’s trying to take in everything about Zayn, like he’s trying to figure out if he should tell him. Zayn gnaws on his bottom lip, a sudden wave of panic washing over him as his mind plays different scenarios in his head. 

“Zayn,” Louis says, and Zayn can hear that he’s getting ready to try and argue with him, like he doesn't want to tell him what happened all those years ago. 

“Please,” Zayn says, gently, reaching up and running his thumb across Louis’ cheek, sliding down his jaw and resting his hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.” 

Louis nods his head and swallows, his expression one that Zayn can’t seem to read. He clears his throat and nods his head, like he’s encouraging himself to talk, and when he finally does, he says, “It was junior year, and I had stayed after school for detention, and before I could go home I had to stop in the locker room to get my math book, I had forgotten it in my locker. Well anyway, I had walked in and I heard something, I can’t remember what it sounded like, or what made me walk in carefully, but it did and I did. And I made my way back and there you were, pressed against the back wall in the far corner kissing some boy, I don’t even remember his name. I must have gasped or something because you jerked apart and you looked at me with such anger in your eyes, but you also looked scared.

“You were so angry after that. It started with dumb things like running into me in the halls and making it seem like an accident, little things that no one, not even myself thought were anything at all, but looking back on it I think that you knew what you were, you were working your way up.”

“To what?” Zayn asks, his eyes watching Louis closely as his face scrunches up. 

“You were on the football team, and they had a tradition of pranking the school. It was always something stupid, just a way for the team to show their dominance over the other students. But it changed that year; it wasn’t just for the entire school because they were all in on it. Everyone got to be apart of the joke except for one person, me,” Louis says, his voice sounding like it’s too tired to be angry, like he’s exhausted and merely wanting for the conversation to be over, but Zayn has to hear it, even if the twist in his gut is telling him differently. 

“What happened, Louis?” 

Louis takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Zayn, it’s not a big deal. We don’t have to talk about this.”

“Yes we do,” Zayn says. 

“No, we don’t,” Louis says, sounding frustrated, and Zayn’s not sure if it’s at him for pushing him to talk, or if it’s with the memory, but he needs to know what happened. 

“You promised to tell me a memory everyday, you promised me that, but it hasn’t been happening, and I’m not angry about it. I didn’t want to hear memories because I’m happy, I’m so fucking happy that I could give a shit less about trying to force memories into my brain, because I have you and the kids now, and having you and the kids back then will come to me when it’s time, so I haven’t tried forcing it. But I remembered this, it came to me, but it’s some foggy memory that shows me nothing, and I just want to know what I’m trying to remember. I don’t remember the kiss, so please; please just tell me what happened.”

“Zayn, you don’t understand,” Louis says, his voice pained as he stares at Zayn. 

Zayn’s ready to reply, ready to continue begging Louis before he started demanding it, but he stops when he sees it, the scene playing out in his head. He sees himself in the locker room, peeking behind a wall and seeing Louis’ naked body under the spray of water in the shower. He can see himself walking back out of the locker room to tell another boy that they only a few minutes before he’s walking back and going straight to a locker in the back, it’s the scene he’s been remembering, the one that caused him to ask Louis in the first place, only this time he’s opening the locker and pulling out shoes and clothes, clutching them against his chest before he rushes back and snatches a towel off it’s hook. He meets the other boy outside, tossing the clothes he grabbed onto the floor where the boy threw the others. He can feel the smile spreading across his face as he laughs with a group of boys, the feeling of pride and vengeance rolling throughout his body as he waits before walking back in. 

And he can see it so clearly, the shocked and humiliated and exposed look in Louis’ eyes, the look only giving Zayn more satisfaction as more and more people stared to come and poke fun at a naked Louis. He can see the way Louis tried to cover himself, tried to shrink in himself and disappear. And he can see the way that Louis broke, his entire spirit crumbling in front of them in an instant. 

Zayn feels like he’s choking, like the room is caving in on him as he takes in the memory, breathing out a tiny, “Holy shit. Oh my god, Louis, I’m so fucking sorry.” Louis looks at him in confusion before realization dawns on him. “I remember. I remember,” Zayn confirms, his hands shaking as he cups Louis’ cheeks in his hand. “I’m so sorry.” 

He repeats it like a mantra, sealing each apology with a kiss to Louis’ skin. Repeating it over and over again, he continues to kiss every inch of Louis’ face that he can, trying his hardest to hold in his own tears as bouts of shame and regret course through his blood. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, kissing the corner of Louis’ mouth before he pulls away. “I have no idea how you could forgive me. I don’t know how you could ever forgive me and change your mind about me and give me a chance after that. Holy shit, I did that to you and we have kids, we have a family.”

“Zayn,” Louis says, shaking his head. “Zayn, stop.” 

“I’m sorry,” Zayn breathes out, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Louis’. “I’m so sorry.”

“Zayn, stop,” Louis says, pulling away from Zayn. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not. It’s not at all okay. I know it was years ago, it was so long ago, but I need to hear you say that you forgive me, because I can remember this, but I can’t remember the part where I tell you how fucking sorry that I am, nor can I remember the part where you tell me that you accept my apology and that you forgive me, so I really, really need to hear you say it right now, because I feel like an utter piece of shit.” 

Louis looks at him for a moment, releasing a deep breath before he nods his head, shrugging his shoulders. “Of course, yeah. I forgive you.”

Zayn nods his head, the knot in his stomach loosening slowly as he sees the sincerity in Louis’ eyes. “God, I can’t believe you’d want to be with me after that,” Zayn says, shaking his head. “You should have hated me instead of getting married to me.”

“Yeah, well,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders, “I have a lot of crazy ideas.” 

“I’m glad you do,” Zayn says, smiling before he leans forward and kisses him.


	25. Chapter 25

Louis sighs as he filters through his paperwork, skimming through the stack that he needs to take care before he heads home for the day. The truth is, he’s been staring at these same ten sheets of paper for the last hour, his mind not really in it today. He’s still tired from the day before, tired from having to work far later than he intended, tired from having to stay up half the night and tell Zayn that it really is okay what happened in the past, and he’s tired because, even after Zayn had fallen asleep Louis lied awake, thinking about how he meant it when he forgave Zayn. He didn’t think that point would come until he got even with him, until he made Zayn feel the same way he did, the same pain, the same humiliation, and until Zayn had to wonder what he did to deserve something like that. Only, Zayn would have his answer, he would know what he did wrong. He wouldn’t and won’t have to spend years alone wondering why he was targeted, why no one wanted to be around him. He wouldn’t be alone, because Zayn has a life somewhere out there; he has people who care about him, people who are probably wondering where he is. But Louis, he took that away from Zayn, made him believe something else. And now, after months and months of living a lie with the boy he thought he hated, he’s come to forgive him, come to terms with what happened to him as a child. And he hasn’t the slightest clue how he’s going to end the revenge that he started that day in the hospital. 

It’s a thought that’s been eating away at him since he forgave Zayn, since he realized that he forgave Zayn. He couldn’t sleep because of it, and now he can’t focus on his work because of it.

Sighing, Louis tosses the paperwork aside and rubs his hands against his face, trying to clear his mind and thoughts. He pulls his hands away from his face and sees Nick staring at him thoughtfully; glasses perched on his nose as he chews on the end of his pen. “What is it?” He asks, not even bothering to pretend like he wants to wait for Louis to decide if he wants to talk to Nick. 

“Zayn asked me last night about something that happened in high school. He got this memory back, something in a locker room but he couldn’t figure out what was going on with it, so I told him it’s where he had his first kiss, but that’s where he actually had it, so it’s not like I was lying. Well, it’s also another place, a place that kind of sealed my fate in high school, made me bring him home from the hospital. I didn’t tell him about it, but he had been thinking about the memory, so he asked me, he asked me what happened,” Louis says, staring at the grain of the wood on his desk, rubbing his thumb against it as he talks. “He wanted to know what happened that involved the two of us, so I told him. I told him but I didn’t get to finish because he remembered it, he remembered what he did, and he apologized. 

“And it’s like, I waited all of high school to hear that apology. I was miserable and I didn’t think I needed to hear it, forgot that I needed to hear it until I saw him again and everything came flooding back to me. All the pain, all the embarrassment, and all the negative feelings I had about myself, all these deep-rooted resentment. But he apologized, and I forgave him, I realized that I forgave him a while ago.”

Louis glances up to see Nick nodding his head thoughtfully, setting the pen in his mouth down on the table. “You got the closure you wanted, so what’s the problem?” Nick asks. “He apologized and you forgave him, obviously he doesn’t remember anything else, like how you lied to him and brought him into your home, so what’s the problem? Why is this upsetting you?” 

“Well, that’s the thing. I forgave him, and not even just last night, but a long time ago, before I even realized that I did, so I have to tell him,” Louis says. 

“Tell him what?” Nick asks, leaning onto his desk, his arms folding in front of him. “You told him you forgave him, what else is there?”

“The truth. I have to tell him, don’t I? He has to know what I did, he told me what he did, even though I already knew, and now I have to confess.”

Nick looks at him for a moment, nodding his head slowly. He shrugs his shoulders and stands up, making his way across their off, he pauses to stop by Louis’ side, squeezing his shoulder gently before he leaves the room. 

“Fuck,” Louis mutters, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.”

~~~ 

Louis gets home from work with a knotted up stomach, nerves swirling around wildly as he closes the door behind him. He’s welcomed by the scent of food, it penetrates his nose as he toes off his shoes, trying to listen for sounds of his family. He drops his things down on the floor and makes his way towards the kitchen; he finds Zayn in the room, his back to Louis as he arranges the table. 

He watches as Zayn adjusts the place setting in front of him, a plastic batman one that Louis knows Liam likes to use sometimes. Each chair has their own mat in front of it on the table, a black man with a picture of Batman and his logo in front of Liam’s spot, another with a picture of Superman and his logo and a cityscape behind him in Niall’s spot, a pale yellow one with a carousel on it in front of Harry’s spot. Zayn has a green one with a fire truck, while Louis has a black one with planets and spaceships on it. He hasn’t seen these in a while, and he wonders where Zayn found them and why they’re out on the table. 

“What are you doing?” Louis asks, causing Zayn to jump. 

“Why did you sneak up on me?” Zayn asks, clutching his heart. “And I’m setting the table, why are you home early?”

“I’m not,” Louis says, glancing over at the clock and back to Zayn. “Why are you setting the table? We never set the table.”

“You’re ten minutes early, actually, and I’m setting the table because we’re having a nice dinner tonight. Well, we were but it turns out we don’t have a nice table cloth or even nice place settings, we have these, so that’s the best I could come up with,” Zayn says, shrugging his shoulders. 

“What’s wrong with our normal dinners?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow at Zayn. 

“I don’t know,” Zayn says, shrugging his shoulders. “I want to do something nice for you, a nice dinner with your family. I thought you’d like it.” 

“I do like it, but we have nice dinners together every night. I just don’t understand the occasion. Like, why did you want to do this tonight?” 

Zayn blushes and shrugs his shoulders, glancing down at the floor like he doesn’t want to answer Louis’ question. Louis looks at him carefully, studying his body language before he looks back at the table, trying his hardest to think of a reason why Zayn would want to do this. And it hits him, Zayn’s wanting to find ways to make up for the way he treated Louis in high school, he wants to find ways to let Louis know that he’s sorry and that he means it. 

Louis releases a deep breath as he turns back to look at Zayn, shaking his head slowly. “If you’re doing this because of last night-“

“I’m not,” Zayn interrupts, cutting Louis off with a glare. “I want to do something nice, not just for you but the kids as well.”

“Like I was saying, if you’re doing this because you feel sorry for what happened then, you should know that it’s pointless. I already told you you’re forgiven and that it’s over with, it’s in the past, and we’re… We’re happy now,” Louis says, biting his tongue to prevent himself from adding, we’re finally okay. “I don’t need you to do anything for me.”

“Well, it’s not about you,” Zayn says. 

“I didn’t say it was, I said if it was. If it is then, you should tell me, because I’d like to talk you out of anything else you have planned for tonight or this week or this month, however far ahead you’re thinking about.”

“I just want you to know that I’m really sorry,” Zayn says, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “I was horrible to you, you deserve a nice dinner on an outer space placemat.”

Louis snorts, shaking his head at Zayn. “I meant it when I said I had forgiven you, so stop worrying about it, okay? I’ll accept your fancy dinner, since you obviously worked on setting up the table, but after this, nothing. Not a word about it again, okay?”

“Yeah, all right,” he says, sighing. 

Louis shakes his head and steps forward to drop a kiss on Zayn’s lips, pinching his side gently. “Don’t look so beat up, it’s a cute dinner, and it smells amazing, whatever it is.”

“Oh that’s a surprise. You’ll have to go play outside with the kids until I finish up in here.”

“You’re banishing me from my own house?” Louis asks. 

“Yes, now get out,” Zayn says, shoving at Louis, shooing him towards the back door. “I’ll call you when dinner is finished.”

~~~ 

Louis dresses into his pajamas slowly, trying his best to steady the shake of his hands as he pulls up his pajama bottoms. He’s going to tell Zayn, going to tell him what he’s done. He thinks now is the best time for it, the kids in their beds and sleeping, so if Zayn wants to leave then he can, because the kids will never know the difference, won’t have to watch it happen. It will give Louis the entire night to figure out what he’s going to tell them. It’ll also give Zayn enough time to yell at him or whatever it is he wants to do with Louis when he finds out the truth. 

He takes a deep breath as he crawls into bed next to Zayn, lying on top of the blankets as he prepares himself to tell Zayn the truth, finally. He doesn’t know how he’s going to do it, but he just knows that it’s time, it has to be done and he can’t wait any longer to do it. 

“Zayn, I want to tell you something,” Louis says, playing with the strings of his pajama pants as he turns to look at Zayn. “It’s really important.”

“Well, I want to ask you something,” Zayn says, sitting up a little. 

“You go first,” Louis says, knowing that nothing Zayn wants to ask him will be as bad as what Louis is about to tell him. 

“All right, I know I mentioned this yesterday,” Zayn says, turning completely so he’s looking at Louis, his back no longer resting on the pillow. “I said that I’m happy and that I don’t need you to tell me memories anymore, but I’ve been thinking, and there is one thing that want to know.”

“Okay,” Louis says, nodding his head slowly. “Maybe I should tell you my thing first and then, you can decide if you want to know a memory, I think that would be best.”

“No. No, I really want to know this, please. You can tell me your thing but only if you tell me what I want to know,” Zayn says. 

“Okay, yeah,” Louis agrees, nodding his head. “What do you want to know?” 

Zayn looks at him for a moment, gnawing on his bottom lip. “I want to know when you fell in love with me, how you knew that you fell in love with me. I want to know how you knew that you should be with me.”

Louis mouth drops open slightly, not having expected that to be what Zayn wanted to know. 

Zayn’s looking at him with wide, worried eyes, his expression open and thoughtful and hopeful as he chews on his bottom lip nervously, waiting for Louis to answer him, like he doesn’t know if Louis will even tell him anything. 

Louis thinks about it for a moment, organizing through his thoughts carefully as he tries to decide how he’s going to answer. Louis feels a wave of sadness wash over him as he looks at Zayn, his shoulders slumping as he sighs in defeat. 

“I fell in love with you slowly, it took time, a lot of it, but not as much as I thought it would, not like I ever thought that I would. I used to think you were selfish and cruel and a coward but I learned differently. You’re kind; you’re a good person. You’re thoughtful and considerate and selfless. You’re always doing everything for other people, always trying to make them feel good about themselves. You make people happy, even if you’re not doing anything; just the air around you does it. Your spirit does it. You’re not like what anyone thinks of you, you’re brave, and you’ll do anything for the people you love and care about. You’re loyal and fiercely protective. You’re sweet and affectionate and you get people to care about you, to love you without doing anything other than being yourself. You don’t have to even do anything. 

“And that’s what happened with me. I fell in love with you on accident. I didn’t mean to, and honestly, I didn’t want to, but I did. And I continue to feel this way about you more and more every day, especially when I see you with Niall and Harry and Liam. You’re really great with them, and I… It’s my favorite thing about you, how perfect you are for them, what a wonderful father you are,” Louis says, his eyes locked with Zayn’s. “So, basically, I fell in love with you by mistake and reluctantly because you’re single handedly the most amazing person to have been alive, and who can stop themselves from loving you?” 

Zayn smiles at him, his eyes watering a bit as he dives forward and kisses Louis, the other boy too overwhelmed by his own admission to do anything other than kiss back slow and lazy, like it’s the first time and he’s just learning the Zayn’s tongue against his own. He moves his hands to clutch onto Zayn’s waist while Zayn brings his up to cup his jaw, their mouths moving together as Louis’ stomach swirling around in even tighter knots. 

Louis pulls away first, his eyes slowly blinking open to reveal Zayn smiling at him softly. 

“What did you want to tell me?” Zayn asks, his hands still on Louis’ cheeks, his thumb brushing against Louis’ cheekbones. 

“I wanted to tell you that I um… Well, I just wanted to say. I just wanted to tell you that, uh. Fuck, um, I love you,” Louis says, and even though his answer might not be what he actually wanted to talk about, it’s the truth and it’s what he wants to tell Zayn now. And when Zayn says it back, Louis kisses him and pretends that everything will be all right.


	26. Chapter 26

Louis lies awake that night, staring at the darkened ceiling of his bedroom, listening to the sound of Zayn’s breathing interwoven with Harry, Liam, and Niall’s. It’s a little after five, his body still refusing to shut down after the night he had with Zayn. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about his confession, the one where he told Zayn that he loved him instead of telling him what he’s been doing for the past several months. He’s tired; his body feels heavy and sluggish, a burden still weighing him down. It has nothing to do with the fact his eyes haven’t even closed once, or that he hasn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours, but it has everything to do with the dark secret he’s hiding. 

He was ready to tell Zayn, he was. He didn’t want to do it, but he needed to. He knew that it’s time to finally let the truth come out, let it be known what he’s done, what he’s doing to the raven haired boy lying next to him. Louis rolls over slightly, shifting his body around so he’s lying on his side facing Zayn. He watches the other boy sleep, reaching out to ghost his fingers lightly over the sharp line of Zayn’s cheekbones. Zayn stirs faintly, sighing in his sleep but doesn’t wake up. Louis’ careful to make sure he doesn’t wake him, or the sleeping boy on Zayn’s other side, Harry tucked underneath his arm, his face pressed into Zayn’s ribs. Liam is lying across his and Zayn’s pillows, his little knee pressing against Zayn’s head as his body stretches out so he’s sharing a pillow with Louis. Niall’s laid out across the end of the bed, covered in his blanket from his own bed, using Zayn’s legs as a pillow and Louis’ legs as a footrest. It had been amusing pretending to sleep while the three of them crawled into bed, each of them barely getting far before they collapsed onto top of the mattress and fell asleep. 

It leaves an ache in Louis’ stomach; the familiarity of the scene knotting up inside of him as he thinks of how it’ll all be lost once Zayn knows the truth. And he’ll deserve it, the all-consuming pain that’ll spread throughout his body when Zayn leaves, but his kids don’t. And he’ll miss these moments; the ones that make them look like a proper family, the ones that have become them. The kids climbing into bed has become something not just for Louis, but something defines them as a family, just like quiet nights at home, the exchange of household responsibilities. 

Louis looks at Zayn and feels his entire body wash up in sadness, his heart twists as he strokes his thumb along Zayn’s cheek. “I’m so sorry,” Louis whispers, leaning forward to press a feather light kiss against Zayn’s forehead. “I’m so sorry.” He repeats it, over and over and over again, like a mantra, one that he hopes will slip into Zayn’s subconscious and tack itself onto Zayn’s brain, infiltrating his memories, so when he finds out the truth he’ll know Louis is telling him the truth about being sorry. 

He releases a deep breath as he pulls away, checking the time to see that it’s nearly time for him to start getting ready for work. He figures he has five minutes; five minutes left he absolutely has to crawl out of bed and get ready for the day. He’s going to talk to Nick, going to try and figure out how he’s going to tell Zayn the truth. He doesn’t want to, he never wants this life to end, but he has to, and he can’t keep living a lie, especially when he’s finally realized how he feels about Zayn. He loves him, he does. This burning love that’s worked it’s way into his bones, anchoring him down and keeping him in place. 

Louis’ too busy staring blankly at the edge of space between Zayn’s collarbone and the shirt dripping down his shoulder - an old, worn out t-shirt that Louis gave to wear for the night – to notice that Zayn’s waking up, his eye’s slowly blinking open to look at Louis. 

“You watching me sleep?” 

Louis startles, jumping a little at the sound of Zayn’s voice. He glances up at his eyes, smiling softly when he sees Zayn rubbing sleep from his eyes. “No,” Louis lies. 

“Yeah you were,” Zayn says, sleepy smile pulling at his lips. He shuffles over, mindful of sleeping Harry and settles against Louis’ side, resting his head against Louis’ ribs. “You all right?” 

“Yeah, course,” Louis says, wrapping his arm around Zayn’s shoulders. “Just a bit tired, didn’t really sleep well, if I’m being honest.” 

“It’s it the kids? Niall’s getting a bit big to be coming to bed with us every night, don’t you think?” 

“No, no,” Louis says, shaking his head. “I don’t mind them, I like that they come in here. It makes me feel like they still love me, especially since Niall is going to a teenager soon, and then he’ll want nothing to do with me.” 

“With us, you mean,” Zayn says, tilting his head up to look at Louis. And Louis nods his head, releasing a deep breath. 

“I have to get up,” Louis says, regrettably after a quick glance at the clock. “I need to shower and get ready for work. I can stop somewhere for breakfast.” He pulls away from Zayn’s embrace, dropping a kiss to the top of his head before he climbs out of bed. Turning around he sees Zayn still looking at him thoughtfully. 

“I’ll come with,” Zayn says, sitting up slowly and carefully climbing out of bed, making sure that Harry doesn’t roll off with him. Louis watches him, his mouth dropped open a little as he tries not to panic about the idea of Zayn joining him at work. He’ll never be able to talk to Nick now, pushing back the certainty of him telling Zayn. 

“Um, you want to go to work with me?” Louis asks, dumbly, gently guiding Liam’s sleeping body down from the pillows and onto the vacant space Louis was just lying on, tossing the blanket over his body.

“No,” Zayn says, rolling his eyes as he walks to the end of the bed. “I meant the shower.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh. Now, come on,” Zayn says, grabbing Louis’ hand and pulling him into the bathroom. Louis doesn’t say anything as he strips down, watching as Zayn starts the water, testing it on the back of his hand until he takes off his own pajamas before he steps under the spray, pulling Louis with him. 

And Louis doesn’t say anything when he lets out a deep sigh, letting Zayn push him under the spray of water right after he slots their mouths together. 

~~~ 

Louis rushes into work, his head down and mind racing as he rushes back towards his and Nick’s office. He slams the door shut behind him, locking it and shoving his chair in front of it, hoping that it’ll keep people out. Not like anyone ever really tries to come to into the office, but Louis’ doesn’t want anything to happen today, nothing. He wants to talk to Nick and he wants to hide under his desk until he figures out what to do, because he’s honestly freaking the fuck out. 

“What are you doing?” Nick asks when Louis finally turns around to look at him. 

“I fucked up,” Louis says, bluntly, hoping that Nick knows what he’s talking about. Nick doesn’t show any signs that he does, but he caps his pen and sets it down on his desk and leans back in his chair. 

“How so?” Nick prompts, folding his arms over his chest. “I’d say it looks like you need a seat but you wedged your chair under the knob, so I’m assuming that this is fairly serious.” 

“Yeah, I’d say it is, all things considered. How could you let me tell Zayn that we were married? How could you allow me to bring him into my house and live a fucking lie for months? Months! How? Why didn’t you try and stop me?” Louis asks, crossing his arms. He’d really like to stomp his foot on the ground like a child but he wants to hold onto some shred of sanity, whatever little bit he has left. 

“I do believe that on a couple occasions I said something against what you were doing, but you never listened. You did your own thing, so I, being the amazing person and friend that I am, thought that maybe you’d end this before it had gone too far. And I’m guessing that you told Zayn and something horrible happened and now you’re having a crisis. Right or wrong?” 

“Wrong,” Louis says, unfolding his arms. “I was going to tell Zayn, had every intention of it but he wanted to know something before I told him. I agreed to tell him that one thing and then I was going to break his heart.” 

“What did he want to know?” 

Louis pauses, taking a deep breath. He’s hesitant to tell Nick, but he thinks he probably already has it scribbled in his notebook somewhere, probably knew about Louis’ feelings before he did, so there’s not much point in hiding it from him. “He wanted to know how I knew that I loved him, when I figured it out.” 

Nick’s eyes go wide a little, his mouth dropping open as he breathes out a quiet little, “oh.” 

“Yeah. Oh.” 

“What’d you tell him?” Nick asks, sweeping a hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp. 

“This is where it gets really fucked up, right. I thought about it, tried to figure out in my head what I was going to say to him but then my mouth just started talking, because the thing is, I actually fucking love him. I love him. I love him. Do you understand that?” Louis asks; he feels a little frantic and unsettled, like his heart is beating too fast and his breath isn’t coming quick enough. “I love someone that I’m lying to. I love someone when our entire relationship is built on a lie. I thought I hated him; I did hate him. I hated him. I wanted to hurt him, and now… Now, I’m afraid to tell the truth because hurting him will kill me. I can’t. I can’t tell him the truth, but I have to. I don’t want to, but I have to, and I have no fucking idea how to do it, so please. Please help me.” 

“I don’t. I don’t know,” Nick says, his shoulders dropping and Louis feels his heart twist a little more. “I knew this would happen. I knew you’d fall for him and for a while I wanted to prevent it, I wanted to get you to tell him sooner, but then you were happier. Your kids are happier, and I couldn’t break that up. You couldn’t break that up. You deserve to be with Zayn, and he deserves to be with you.” 

“He’s not going to want to be with me when he finds out what happened, what I did.” 

“You don’t know that,” Nick protests and Louis snorts, rolling his eyes. 

“Nick, pretend it was you. Let’s say I did this to you, would you forgive me? Would you want to be with me and your fake kids? I know that I sure as hell wouldn’t if I were him. I’d hate me. I do hate me and I’m me.” 

“Maybe, but you were the only person who went to the hospital and spent time with him before he woke up. You were the only person to come forward about who he was and you brought him home. You’ve made sure he’s been taken care of, and loved. If you hadn’t have done anything he’d be alone and confused in a hospital, waiting and praying that someone would remember he was alive or until his memory came back, whichever came first. So yeah, you fucked up. You lied to him and you’re going to break his heart. Yeah, you shouldn’t have done it, you should have known better or stopped it before it got out of hand, but you fell in love with him well before last night. And the life he has right now might not be real, but the feelings he has for you are real.” 

“I just. I fucked up so badly. I shouldn’t have done this, but I can’t. I can’t tell him the truth. I can’t lose him. I can’t. I thought I’d be okay when he finally found out, I thought that I’d be able to handle it and maybe I’d feel a little badly about it, but I’d be okay in a few months. He’d be okay in a few months. He’d go back to his life and I’d go back to mine. But now… Now, my heart aches just thinking about having to tell him. I don’t want to be the person who breaks his heart but no matter what happens that’s me. I’m going to break his heart, and the thought keeps me awake at night. I stayed awake the entire fucking night and just watched him sleep and thought about how fucking miserable my life is going to be once he’s gone. I can’t. I can’t let that happen,” Louis says, swallowing down the lump in his throat and rubbing the back of his hand against his eyes to stop the tears that threaten to fall. 

“You’ve already made one selfish decision for him when you lied to him. Don’t you think that you owe him the truth?” 

“Of course I do,” Louis retorts, shaking his head at Nick. 

“No, no.” Nick shakes his head, releases a deep breath and rubs at his jaw. “Don’t you think that it would be better if you told him, if you explained what happened and tried to make everything all better, instead of his memory flooding back, or instead of someone else telling him? He loves you. He trusts you. And when it comes to bad news, we want to hear it from the people we love and trust, not from someone else.” 

“He’ll hate me,” Louis says weakly and pathetically, his shoulders sagging down in defeat. 

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Nick says, not unkindly even if Louis’ heart clenches at the statement. “Why don’t you take the day off, it’ll be paid. Go back to my place, get some sleep, and then head home. You shouldn’t be here when you’re sleep-deprived and your head is somewhere else. It’s dangerous. Go on.” Nick shoos at him, waving his hand around in the air for a moment before he grabs the pen off his desk and goes back to doing whatever it was he was doing before Louis walked in. 

Louis nods his head weakly, sighing as he shoves his chair out from under the door and makes his way out of the office. 

~~~ 

Louis still can’t sleep, not even in Nick’s quiet house. The only sound penetrating the air is the quiet ticking on the wall. He’s sitting in the middle of Nick’s living room floor, the small box he gave him a while ago filled with pictures spread out on the floor in front of him. He looks at them, running his fingers across the images as he watches the glimpses of his life, the one he used to have. Eleanor is smiling back at him, clutching a freshly bathed Niall wrapped in a towel in her arms. He’s two in the picture, back when it was the three of them living in a tiny apartment, the future uncertain but welcomed. There’s still an ache in his chest, the place where Eleanor used to be as he looks at the pictures, looking at the life that used to be his. 

He remembers it but not really, these photographs look like they belong to someone else, another person from era that Louis doesn’t know. He remembers some of these days, saving up enough money to take Niall away for the weekend, his first birthday when he smeared cake on Eleanor’s face. He remembers the days where they’d dress the three of them the same, combing their hair to the side and trying to take pictures of them in the back yard. He remembers it, but not really. And thinking about Eleanor leaving doesn’t leave the same throbbing twinge in his chest, like it does when he thinks about Zayn leaving. 

He stares at the open box of memories on the floor and wonders if he’s going to need a box for Zayn, a place to keep it all so he doesn’t have to deal with it. If he’ll have to pack it all in a tiny little box and stuff it in the back of his closet where he’ll have until he’s ready to acknowledge what happened. Eleanor leaving and breaking their family apart was her fault, her doing, but Zayn… That’s Louis’ fault and he’ll be the one living with his broken hearted children as he reminds himself everyday that he caused it. 

Louis takes a shaky breath, breaking from his revere as his phone vibrates on the floor, sliding across the hardwood. He glances down, sees a picture of Zayn smiling up at him. “Get it together,” Louis mutters, rubbing at his eyes before he answers the call. “Hello?” 

“Hey, what are you doing?” 

“Nothing, just at work,” Louis lies, clearing his throat. “What’s going on? Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, just wanted to know when you’d be home tonight. I was going to start dinner, but I wanted it to be finished by the time you got home.”

“I’m actually getting ready to head home now,” Louis says, dropping the picture in his hand. “

“Yeah?” Zayn asks, breathing into the phone. 

“Yeah,” Louis says, pushing the images together, shoving them into a tiny stack, picking them up and dropping them back into the box. He drops the lid on top, setting the box down on the table before he stands up slowly. “I’ll be home soon. Um, we need to talk.”

“Okay,” Zayn says. “I’ll see you soon?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Um. I love you,” Louis says, because he’s not sure that he’ll get to say it again. And he can’t see it but he feels it when Zayn smiles on the other end of the phone. 

“Me too,” he mutters quietly before he hangs up.


	27. Chapter 27

Zayn’s finally getting around to finishing the lunch dishes when he hears someone behind him, quiet sock clad feet sliding across the floor. He turns around, frowning when he sees Liam rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“Liam, you’re supposed to call me, you’re not allowed to walk down the stairs by yourself,” Zayn scolds, shutting off the water and grabbing the hand towel to dry his hands.

“Sorry,” Liam says, widening his brown eyes and pouting up at Zayn. “I’m done sleep.” 

“Next time, call me, okay? You know Daddy and I hate when you walk down the stairs.” Liam’s pouting, brown eyes glassy as he looks at Zayn, emotions high, probably because he’s still tired, barely sleeping a half an hour before he found Zayn in the kitchen. Zayn sighs, leaning down to pick Liam up and set him on the counter, brushing his thumbs under Liam’s eyes, he says, “You’re not in trouble. We just don’t want you getting hurt, right? We love our little Liam and stairs can be tricky, even I trip on them sometimes, but you’re our baby, so we don’t want you getting hurt, okay?” 

Liam inhales, sucking in a deep breath. “I didn’t trip,” he says. “I held on.” 

“And that’s good, that’s how you do it, but next time, please call Poppy, okay? Or Daddy, if he’s home, or even Niall, so we one of us can hold your other hand.” 

“Okay,” Liam says, nodding sadly, his eyes still trained downwards. “Can we color?” He looks up at Zayn, a hopeful expression in his eyes. 

“Yeah, sweetheart, we can color.” Zayn leans forward to kiss Liam’s forehead and then helps him off the counter, patting him on the back, nudging him in the direction of the table. He watches Liam climb onto one of the kitchen chairs before he grabs the supplies, getting the coloring books and crayons out of their proper places and bringing them towards the table. “We have Ninja Turtles, farm animals, Power Rangers, Sesame Street, puppies, and this one with the cover ripped off, which would you like?” He sets them down on the table, taking a seat in the chair next to Liam and watching as he chooses. 

“Puppy,” Liam says, kneeling on his chair to reach across the table and pull the puppy book closer to him, grabbing a fist full of crayons and flipping it open to a random page. “You do this one.” He pushes forward the one without a cover and Zayn flips through it find that it’s different kind of scenes from a circus. 

He settles on an image of a seal balancing a stripped ball on its nose. Grabbing the blue crayon, he colors, keeping an eye on Liam as he does it. 

“When Daddy gets back?” Liam asks, pulling the blue crayon out of Zayn’s hand. 

“After work, like he always is. Actually, Poppy only has time to color this one picture and then I’m going to start dinner. I want to do something special for Daddy, make him a nice dinner or something? And we can put out some candles, and make it cute, like ‘Lady and the Tramp’, we could make spaghetti.” 

Liam gives Zayn a look of distaste, shaking his head. “No,” he says, scrunching up his face. 

“What don’t you like about it?” 

“S’ghetti,” Liam says. 

“I can make you, Harry and Niall the dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets with macaroni, does that sound better? You can drink apple juice, too.” 

Liam considers it for a moment, handing Zayn back the blue crayon he stole. “We do hearts, color them,” he suggests, climbing off of the chair. Zayn follows him, watching to see where he’s going and what he’s doing. Liam disappears for a moment and when he returns he’s carrying a stack of blank paper. He hands it to Zayn, climbing back onto the chair and grabbing the red and pink crayons. He passes Zayn the pink and grabs his a sheet of paper. He demonstrates what he means, drawing a heart to the best of his ability. It doesn’t really look like a heart, one side fatter and longer than the other side, which is short and skinny. 

“You want to make paper hearts for the dinner?” Zayn asks, his brain catching up to what Liam is doing as he shades in the heart he drew. 

“Yes,” Liam says, shoving that piece of paper away and grabbing another one. Zayn considers it for a moment before he grabs a sheet of paper and begins drawing his own hearts. 

~~~ 

“What are we doing?” 

“Well,” Zayn says, glancing down at Harry. “We’re doing something nice for Daddy.” 

“Doing something nice means lots of candles?” Harry asks. 

“No, it doesn’t, not always, but tonight it does. We have candles and hearts, and it’s going to be a nice dinner,” Zayn explains. 

“There aren’t any flowers,” Harry states, glancing at the table. “You need lots of flowers.” 

“Rip the petals off them and throw them on the ground, like in movies,” Niall says, his eyes lighting up as he cuts out the paper hearts Zayn and Liam did earlier. 

“That’s not nice,” Liam says at the same time Zayn asks, “What kind of movies are you watching?” 

“Are you going to ask Daddy to marry you?” Harry asks as he dips his finger in the chocolate pudding Zayn made for the boys dessert. 

“No,” Zayn says, gently removing Harry’s hand from the bowl, picking it up and putting it in the fridge so he can no longer sneak bits of it, probably the only reason he slid a chair across the floor to sit next to Zayn. “We’re already married, no point in asking.” 

“You have to ask him, silly,” Harry says. “If you don’t ask, then you can’t be married.” 

“Harry, maybe we should go outside and get some flowers from Mrs. Hamilton’s yard, don’t you think? And then Liam can put these hearts somewhere? That’s a good idea,” Niall says, handing the paper hearts over to Liam before he makes his way around the kitchen, grabbing Harry by the hand and leading him outside. 

“Hey,” Zayn calls, stopping the two of them in their tracks. They turn around, eyes wide as they look at him. “Does Mrs. Hamilton allow that?” 

Harry nods his head quickly. “Oh, yes,” he says, very seriously. “She lets me help her sometimes. I have some, um… yellow ones over there.” 

Zayn looks at them skeptically for a moment before he sighs, nodding his head. “All right, just not too many, and be careful. I’m going to call Daddy and see where he is.” 

Zayn watches the two boys run off before he grabs the house phone, dialing Louis number and waiting. It rings three times before he hears Louis voice, “Hello?” 

Zayn smiles, the sound of Louis’ voice sending a prickling sensation to his stomach. “Hey, what are you doing?”

“Nothing, just at work,” Louis says back and his voice sounds like he’s distracted, like he’s focusing on something else other than the phone call. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to know when you’d be home tonight. I was going to start dinner, but I wanted it to be finished by the time you got home.” 

“I’m actually getting ready to head home now.” 

“Yeah?” Zayn asks, releasing a deep breath. 

“Yeah,” Louis says, followed by a long pause. The sound of his breathing the only thing Zayn hears for a minute. “I’ll be home soon. Um, we need to talk.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Um, I love you,” Louis says, and Zayn’s stomach clenches, the prickling feeling turning into a fluttering one as he smiles, feeling his heart beat pick up. 

“Me too,” he replies, holding onto the phone for a second longer before he hangs up, smile still on his face. When he turns around though and sees Liam frowning at the stack of hearts in his hand, he frowns, stepping closer to his youngest and rubbing his back. “What’s wrong, Li?” 

“I don’t know how,” he says, looking up at Zayn sadly and Zayn looks at him in confusion, not understanding what Liam doesn’t know what to do and how to do it, until it clicks. 

“Oh, sweetheart, hold on,” Zayn says, standing up and walking around to the other side of the kitchen, pulling open several drawers until he stumbles upon a roll of tape. He brings it back to Liam, setting it down on one of the chairs so he can reach it. “You can tape them up, okay? You can put them anywhere, just not on plates or cups or anything on the table, how about that? You can stick them to the walls, to the windows, the door, the cabinets, anything, okay?” 

Liam sighs, releasing a shaky breath as he nods his head. “I can do that.” 

“Yeah, that’s Poppy’s boy,” Zayn says, leaning forward to kiss Liam’s head. “That’s my boy.”

“We only got a little,” Zayn hears Harry say and turning around he sees that a little, is a lot. Harry’s carrying at least seven of four different kinds of flowers, holding them all against his chest as he struggles to see where he’s going, bumping into the wall a bit as he walks. Niall’s just the same, only he has one kind, yellow daisies. 

“That’s… Um, that’s a lot. Please tell me there are still flowers in Mrs. Hamilton’s garden.” 

“Poppy, don’t be silly,” Harry says, dropping the flowers on the floor. 

“She has a lot,” Niall says. “We needed special ones for the floor, and enough for the table.” 

“Oh my god,” Zayn groans, rubbing at his eyes for a moment. “Okay, that’s fine. I need to put dinner into the oven and then I’ll vases down, okay? Niall, oh god, um, let Liam help you, okay? Actually, help him first, please.” 

He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that this can’t be the first romantic dinner they’ve shared with their kids, and it can’t be the first one that was taken over by their kids’ ideas, so he’s not going to panic. He rubs his hands against his face, breathing deeply once more before he before puts both the kids and his and Louis’ dinner into the oven. 

“Poppy, the flowers,” Harry says, urgently, forcing Zayn to move quickly to grab vases out of… wherever they are in this kitchen, Zayn makes a mental note to learn the kitchen a little better, to memorize the locations of the objects he’s forgotten about. 

~~~ 

“Oh my god,” Louis says when he steps into the house after work. 

The lamp next to the couch is on, casting a soft yellow glow around the house. Niall and Liam finished sprinkling the daisy petals from the front door to the table, saying they needed to show Liam the trail to follow, and Zayn fought down the urge to grab the broom and clean it up. Inside of the kitchen, the table is set, everything in its proper place with the same fancy place mats that they used not that long ago. The food is laid out, the chicken nuggets and macaroni on the kids plates, and a chicken dish on Zayn and Louis (having decided against spaghetti after Liam’s look of disapproval). There is a small bouquet of flowers on the table, in between a series of candles, and two larger bouquets are set on the counter, and paper hearts along the backs of the cabinets and the backdoor. 

“Surprise?” Zayn says, pulling his shoulders up a little as he smiles at Louis. 

“You did this?” Louis asks, and Zayn watches him as he bends down to pick Liam up. “You planned this?”

“Yeah, I did,” Zayn says, biting his lip. “Do you like it?”

“Why?” asks Louis, his voice curious and his eyes amazed as he looks at Zayn. 

“Poppy wants you to marry him,” Harry shouts. 

Zayn rolls his eyes, laughing as he shakes his head. “I wanted to do something special for you. I don’t have memories, so I want to create them. I mean, you like it right?”

“Oh god, of course. It’s beautiful and the food smells amazing, and you really, really shouldn’t have done this. Oh my god,” Louis says. “Kids, can you go sit down at the table. I need to talk to Poppy for a second.” 

Zayn frowns, watching as Louis sets Liam down on the ground, patting him lightly on the back. “What’s wrong?” Zayn asks. 

“Nothing, I just wanted to talk to you, remember?” Louis says. 

“Now?” Zayn asks, turning back around to see Niall helping Liam into his chair, pushing it in for him. 

“Yeah. Zayn, we need to talk.” 

“Babe, please. Can’t it wait? I did something special for you; the kids did something special for you. Can’t we enjoy dinner first? We can talk once they go to sleep.” 

Louis looks at him for a moment, his expression thoughtful before he nods his head. “Yeah, you’re right. Come on, let’s go eat.” 

Zayn smiles, clasping his hands together and following Louis the few feet into the kitchen. He looks around in confusion, two plates and two children missing. He spots Niall and Harry behind the counter, whispering loudly to each other. 

“Where’s the food?” Zayn asks, tilting head to look at Niall who is standing with Harry behind the counter, only Liam is at the table, happily munching on his dinner. 

“Sit down,” Niall demands. “We want to do something.” 

Louis pats him on the small of his back as he walks by, brushing past him to sit in his usual chair. Zayn follows, watching his older two sons closely. They continue to whisper to each other for a moment before Harry walks out, walking proudly up to Louis. 

“Daddy, do you want the good food or the grown up food?” Harry asks, looking up at him. Louis glances up, smiling at Zayn. 

“The grown up food, please,” Louis replies. 

“Me too,” Zayn says. 

And Harry nods his head and turns toward Niall. “They want the gross stuff.”

“Coming right up,” Niall sings, emerging from behind the counter with two plates in his hands. Zayn flinches as he watches, praying that his hard work won’t fall onto the floor. It doesn’t. Niall manages to give them both their food before he climbs into his own chair and begins eating. 

“That was good, right?” Niall asks Zayn. “Just like in the movies.” 

“Yes, that was good, thank you.”

“This is, wow, this is really good,” Louis says, taking a bite of his food. 

“Thanks,” Zayn says, blushing slightly at his words. “I made dessert.”

“Pudding,” Harry says. 

“Chocolate,” Liam adds. 

“It’ll taste like Harry’s dirty fingers,” Niall says. “Dad, he dunked his finger in the bowl. His whole hand.” 

“I did,” Harry says, nodding along. 

Zayn smiles, because as far as romantic dinners go, this ones pretty great. 

~~~ 

It’s a little after ten before Zayn and Louis are alone, the kids having been stubborn about going to sleep, all of them but Liam, who nodding his head gratefully when Zayn said it was time for sleep. They’re currently in their bedroom, Louis in the joint bathroom brushing his teeth while Zayn gets dressed, pulling on a pair of loose pajama bottoms and nothing else, the two having switched tasks just minutes before. 

Zayn slips into the bathroom, sneaking up behind Louis and wrapping his arms around his waist, his chest pressed against Louis’ back. He kisses the back of his neck, breathing in his scent. “Did you like dinner?” Louis nods, unable to talk with the toothbrush in his mouth. “It’s hard to be romantic with kids in the house, I thought about sending them to Mrs. Hamilton’s but they’d see your car outside and probably come bang on the windows, besides Liam, he’d just be standing there with a distressed look on his face.” 

Louis spits into the sink, bending over and causing Zayn to have to let go of him. He rinses his mouth out, then the toothbrush before he sets it down and shuts the water off, turning back to look at Zayn. “I’m glad they were there. I could tell they contributed and it was… nice? I liked it, the food was amazing, which is always a bonus.” 

“Yeah, it is,” Zayn says, softly and quietly, admiring Louis for a moment. “I’m glad you liked it.” He leans up a bit and presses his mouth against Louis, kissing him slowly and deliberately. It barely lasts a beat before Louis is pulling away, resting his forehead against Zayn’s. “We should get in bed.”

Louis nods his head, pulling away and allowing Zayn to walk him towards the bed, flicking off the bathroom light in the process. 

Once they’re settled in, Zayn goes to kiss Louis again, attempting to lean across the bed, but Louis pulls away, gently easing Zayn back to his side of the bed, his expression pained as he does it. 

“What’s wrong?” Zayn asks, frowning. Louis looks at him for a moment, calculating something in his head and Zayn stares back, watching as his husband struggles for words, mouth opening and closing. 

“I’ve been lying to you about something important,” Louis says carefully. 

“Okay, what is it?” Zayn asks, biting his lip as he braces himself, his mind racing to try and understand what Louis could possibly want to tell him. “You can tell me anything, don’t be afraid, babe.” He reaches out and squeezes Louis’ knee and before he grabs his hand, interlocking their fingers together. 

He feels it, Louis’ body shaking. And he scowls, watching the movement, his eyebrows pulling together. Louis’ looking at him, mouth opening and closing as he struggles to find words, again, shaking his head quickly. His breathing is coming in labored; his eyes welling up with tears and Zayn can feel a knot in his chest, watching as the person he loves struggles to tell him something. 

“It’s okay,” Zayn assures, crawling closer to Louis, cupping his face in his hands. “Baby, it’s okay. I love you, okay? And that’s the important thing, so whatever it is you want to talk about, it can wait. You don’t have to tell me now. Tell me when you’re ready, don’t rush things.” 

“I have to tell you now but I don’t know how,” Louis says, tears falling from his eyes. “I swear this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“It’s okay,” Zayn soothes, kissing his forehead. “Louis, you’re shaking, calm down, okay? I promise it’s okay. I love you, okay?” He removes his hands to kiss Louis’ cheeks, one then the other. He presses kisses to his face, every possible inch of it as he whispers soft reassurances, trying to calm Louis down. Louis nodding his head as he does it, shaky breaths escaping his mouth as he tries to calm down. 

Zayn kisses and kisses and kisses until Louis turns his head, pressing their mouths together so Zayn is no longer kissing anything else, just breathing into his mouth as their mouths move together, Louis hands coming up to grip at Zayn’s hips. 

Zayn pulls away, turning his face slightly and bumping Louis’ nose. “What do you want, Lou?” 

“I want… I want you,” Louis says, kissing Zayn’s cheek. 

Zayn smiles, turning his head to press his lips against Louis’ again, warm and soft and slow, gently guiding them both down until Louis is lying flat on his back, Zayn resting against him. 

“You’re still shaking,” he sees, rubbing against Louis’ face, breathing the words into his mouth. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” Louis says, rubbing his hand across the sliver of skin above his waistband. “I just need you.” He bites his lip after he says it, and Zayn wonders what he’s holding back. “No, you’re right. We shouldn’t.” He shakes his head, like he’s finally realizing something. 

Zayn grabs him, stopping him from trying to crawl out from under him. “Unless you’re getting on top of me, then don’t move.” 

“Zayn, it’s okay.”

“Exactly, it’s okay. I’m not saying no, I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he says, reaching out to brush his fingers through Louis’ hair. 

“I’m… Fuck, not really,” Louis says, smiling a little as he shrugs his shoulders. “We really need to talk.” 

“Not when you’re that upset over it. I’m not going to listen to it, I’ll get up and sleep in Niall’s room, he’s the only one who won’t open the door for you.”

“Zayn, I can’t take advantage of you when I just admitting to lying to you,” Louis says, pulling himself into a sit. 

Zayn rolls his eyes, moving onto his back. “You can tell me when you’re not about to cry in our bed or when you’re not shaking. I don’t like that you’re lying to me,” he says, tilting his head to look at Louis. “But I love you, and you love me, right?” 

“So fucking much,” Louis breathes out. 

“Then that’s all I need to know until you’re ready.” 

Louis looks down at him for a minute, gnawing on his bottom lip as he struggles to find something to say, third time tonight that he’s gone speechless. 

“Okay,” Louis says, nodding his head. “I don’t.” He swallows visibly, reaching out to rub his hand across Zayn’s bare ribcage, the skin prickling with goose bumps at the touch. “I don’t really agree, but okay.”

“You’re so stubborn,” Zayn says, rolling his eyes. “Are we going to have sex?” Zayn asks, smiling wickedly. “Because if so, you should probably go and lock the door.” 

Louis smiles, leaning down to kiss him once before he hops off the bed, rushing across the room to lock the door. He crawls back on the back, pulling the blanks down from underneath Zayn and then crawling on top of him, moving his hips in a steady circle. “Promise you won’t regret this in the morning?” He asks, lowering himself down until his mouth is a few inches away from Zayn’s. 

The blood is rushing down to Zayn’s dick and he has trouble thinking, but not to the point where he wonders if he’d be able to regret Louis, so he pushes his ups him, grinding his thickening cock against Louis’. “Promise,” he says, pushing up to kiss Louis the same time Louis dips his hand into his pants. 

It’s not like the first time, no nervous feeling washing over his body, no wondering what it’s like, or how they’ll be in the morning. Louis’ places kisses all over his body, whispering words that Zayn can’t hear into his skin, before he eases him open, slowly and carefully, like he’s scared of hurting Zayn. And when they come, it’s with Louis’ hand wrapped around him, kissing the sound of out of his mouth. 

And after they change the sheets, pulling their clothes back on, and unlocking their bedroom door, Zayn curls up next to Louis, wrapping himself around the other boy and whisper his love into his neck like a lullaby, urging Louis to sleep.


	28. Chapter 28

“So, how did everything go last night?” Nick asks. 

Louis has barely been at work for ten seconds, and he frowns at Nick in confusion, shutting the office door behind him. “How did what go?” 

“Telling Zayn that he’s not really your wife?” Nick says, giving Louis a look like he’s stupid. 

“Oh, uh… It went well, um, considering that I didn’t tell him,” Louis says, biting his lip. 

“What?” Nick shouts, slapping his hand against the table. “Why didn’t you tell him?” 

“I tried! I was going to but him and the kids made a huge romantic dinner and he said we shouldn’t talk in front of the kids, which made sense, so I ate dinner and then after the kids went to sleep I told him I wanted to talk, and I said that I had been lying to him for a while, but I started shaking, almost started crying at the thought of it and he calmed me down, told me to wait until I was ready.” 

“And when you calmed down you didn’t think to mention it?” 

“We were, uh, busy doing something else,” Louis says, dropping down onto his office chair. “He wanted, uh, it was his idea.” 

“Louis, what the fuck? What happened to telling him?” 

“That’s the thing though, I don’t think I want to tell him anymore. I don’t think he really needs to know. No, let me finish,” Louis says, holding up a hand to stop Nick. “He needs to know, I worded that wrong, but I don’t think he needs to know now. He’s fine and he’s done asking about memories, and if he’s not asking about them then he really can’t remember anything, so as long as his memory doesn’t have a chance of coming back then I’m not going to tell him.” 

“You’re not going to tell him?”

“No, I don’t think it makes sense. I don’t. I don’t want to tell him, it’s too hard.”

“I think you’re making a mistake,” Nick says, dropping a stack of folders onto Louis’ desk. “I know you don’t want to tell him, I know it’s hard for you, I understand all of that, but I think you’re making a mistake. You not tell him now is going to affect things in the long run, so in my opinion, you should tell him.” 

“I appreciate your opinion, I do,” Louis says, sliding one of the folders over to lie in front of him. “But I don’t think it’s the right time. Every time I’ve tried to tell him he’s fought it, he doesn’t want to know, and I feel like something is trying to give me a sign that I shouldn’t tell him, at least not now, and maybe ever. It’s been months since the accident and he still doesn’t remember anything, nothing, so what if he never gets his memory back?” 

“Louis, I don’t understand. Yesterday you were ready to tell him, you were going to tell him, but today… Today you want to put it off indefinitely?” 

“I’m happy,” Louis says. “And I’m scared of losing him. Can’t you just support me?” 

Nick looks at him for a moment before he sighs, nodding his head. “Yeah, all right. Just, be careful, okay? You’ve got an army full of kids involved, and as much as I love to give you a hard time about them, I really care about them, and I don’t want to see anyone hurt.” 

“Duly noted, and thank you. I… It means a lot to me that you haven’t ratted me out, or called the cops on me or something.” 

“It’s fine,” Nick says, waving him off. “If I called the cops on you, then I wouldn’t have anyone here to do all the work that I don’t want to do for less money.” He smiles and Louis glances up just to flip him off, raising his middle finger and shaking his head. “Those need to be done, before lunch if you can.” 

“On it boss, now shut up so I can get to work.”

Nick makes a point of locking up his mouth and throwing away the key, right before he lets out a giant yawn and takes a sip of his coffee. 

~~~ 

Louis helps Harry out of the backseat of his car, listening gladly as he rambles on about his day at school. It’s not really an interesting story, Harry telling Louis about the contents of his lunch, but it doesn’t matter, Louis’ happy to hear it, glad to have gotten off of work early enough to grab Niall and Harry from school, excited to be able to spend more time with his family. 

As they walk towards the door, he hears Nick’s words in his head, urging him to tell Zayn, but he pushes it to the back of his mind, the thought making him want to vomit off the ledge of his porch, so he pushes it down, fighting against the urges and keeps the smile on his face as he nods along to Harry’s story. Shoving the door open, he’s met with Zayn entering the living room, a sight he’s all too happy to see.

“Did you and Liam have fun today?” Louis asks, leaning forward to kiss Zayn. 

“Yeah, we did. It was an interesting day, we found some of the board games and we played some of those and went for a walk around the neighborhood, I think he had fun,” Zayn says. 

“Where is he at?” 

“He’s in the kitchen, he’s coloring, said he wanted to wait to watch a movie until Harry and Niall got him, he wanted to make sure he picked one that they’d like as well.” 

“He’s the sweetest,” Louis says, smiling, dropping all of his and Harry’s things down on the ground. “I’ll clean that up later, want to get something drink. While I’m in the kitchen, I’ll tell the boys to come in here to pick out a movie and we can all sit down to watch something.” He turns his back to Zayn, making his way across the room behind Zayn’s words stop him, causing him to turn around. “Pardon?”

“The hospital called today,” Zayn says and Louis freezes, shivers running up his spine as he tries to keep his expression neutral. 

“They did? Why? Did you miss some kind of follow up appointment? Or did they just want to check up on you, see how you were doing?” Louis asks, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“No, they called to say my friend, Danny wanted to know where I was. Apparently he’s been out of the country for a while, took a year off to travel the world and when he came back his brother and I were missing, couldn’t find us at all,” Zayn says, his tone taking on a chilly air to it. 

“Zayn,” Louis tries, but his tongue feels heavy, like it’s made of lead and unable to lift up off the bottom of his mouth. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn't know what to do, or how to act, because Zayn’s about to tell him what he should have told him a long time ago and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to handle this. 

“I don’t know all the details but he ended up being taken to the hospital where his dead brother was last at, and he asked questions, tried to figure out what happened and that’s when they mentioned me, said I was off with my husband and family.”

“Zayn, I’m so-“ 

“No, you don’t get to be sorry, Louis,” Zayn says, his voice breaking and Louis sees as he wipes at his eyes, doing his best to keep his composure. “I remember. Not at first, at first I didn’t understand what the hospital was telling me, they made me mad. I was angry, trying not to yell at them so I wouldn’t wake Liam because I felt like they were trying to confuse me but then I heard Danny’s voice and it clicked, everything. My entire world fell into place and I was ecstatic, I wanted to tell you the good news but then I realized… 

“You lied to me. I’m not your husband; I’m not the father to you children. I’m nothing to you. I’m the guy who made your life hell in high school and we never made up from that, we never reached a point of forgiveness. You did this because you’re spiteful and hateful and angry and you… I don’t know why you did this. Why did you do this to me? Why did you lie? Why would you bring me here with your kids?” Zayn asks, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry,” Louis says, his heart breaking into so many pieces that it feels like it’s turned to dust and drifted off in the air, down onto the ground where people are free to stomp on it as much as they want. And he thinks it’s only fair that they get to, only fair and that it should be Zayn stomping on his heart because he stomped on Zayn’s. “It was stupid of me, so, so stupid of me to have done this.” 

“Yeah, it was. And you couldn’t realize that sooner? You couldn’t realize that before this turned into an entire production? You pretended we were married for months. Months, Louis.” 

“I shouldn’t have lied, I shouldn’t have done it, but it stopped being fake for me a long time ago. I wanted to tell you sooner, but you made it so hard. You were always finding ways to make it difficult, and I should have just had the balls to tell you sooner, but I didn’t, and that’s my fault, but do you know how hard you made this for me? I didn’t want you to leave, if you found out then you’d leave and I didn’t want that.” 

“Yeah, it’d be really hard for you if I left. You’d lose your babysitter, your maid, your chef, your,” Zayn swallows, taking a deep breath as he shakes his head. “You… We slept together. You used me.” 

“No,” Louis says, firmly, shaking his head. “That wasn’t… God, no, don’t say that because you initiated it, you did, and maybe I shouldn’t have allowed it to happen, but we both wanted it. We both cared enough about each other to get to that point.” 

“I thought you were my husband. I thought, I wanted to be with you like a proper husband because I thought it would help my memory, I thought if we did what proper husbands do, what I thought we used to do, then I’d remember, but you didn’t care, you just wanted to get off and I was there, right? It’s not like you had to work for it, just had to go into the hospital and pretend to be with someone.”

“Don’t say that,” Louis says, gritting his teeth. “You can say anything you want about me lying to you, about me bringing you home from the hospital and making you think that you had something when you didn’t, but you can’t say anything about my feelings because those were real, and not just for me, but for you too. And not just because you thought I was your husband. I tried, I tried to resist you and to pretend that I didn’t feel anything, but it’s impossible to not feel anything for you Zayn. You’re gorgeous, but not only that, you’re selfless and caring and considerate and you just… you made me happy, me and our kids, you made us happy.” 

“Your kids,” Zayn corrects, glaring at Louis, his expression one that could kill if it wanted to. And Louis swallows, nodding his head at the correction, trying not to remember the time when Zayn used to hate Louis for not calling them their kids. “They’re not mine.”

Louis’ frowns, fighting back against the tears in his eyes, his nose prickling, and he’s ready to say something back but the sound of a tiny voice stops him. 

“Poppy.”

And it’s almost like the air is sucked out of the room, one word snapping Louis and Zayn back to reality, reminding them both that are three children in the house, all of which have migrated into the living room to see what’s going on. 

Zayn sucks in a deep breath, shaking his head at Niall. 

“Niall, can you take your brothers upstairs, please?” Louis asks, doing his best to keep his emotions in check, he turns around to look at his kids, tearing his eyes away from Zayn to address them. “Please.” 

“No,” Niall says, shaking his head. “I don’t want to.”

“Niall, please,” Louis begs. 

“What’s going on?” Harry asks, looking between the three of them. 

Louis can’t see Liam, can just make out the little body in his peripheral vision running across the room, going towards the direction of Zayn. He doesn't have time to check where he’s going because there is a car approaching outside, the sound of it stopping in front of the house causes Louis to turn around quickly to look at Zayn. 

“Danny’s here, I spoke to him on the phone, gave him your address. I don’t. I don't have anything here, no clothes of my own, no personal belongings, no keepsakes, no children, and definitely no husband,” Zayn says. “I don’t have a reason to stay.” 

“Zayn, please,” Louis says, unable to say what he really wants to say, like how sorry he is, and how badly he fucked up, but how he’s not really sorry at all because if he hadn’t of done it then he would have never fallen in love with Zayn, and he’s not sorry for the way he feels because the emotions and the feelings behind it were real, only the titles were fake. He desperately wants to convince Zayn to stay, just a little while longer so he can explain better about how he felt for Zayn, the pure, raw emotion behind it, but he can’t. 

“I can’t stay here, Louis. I have no reason to be here besides a lie and that’s just not good enough for me,” he says and with that Zayn opens the door, attempting to leave the house when Niall takes off running after him, stopping him from shutting the door as he rushes off towards the car. 

"You promised. You promised not to leave. You said you wouldn't," Niall shouts chasing after Zayn. Louis rushes after him, grabbing onto Niall before he can rush off the porch and chase after Zayn completely. He's thrashing in Louis' arms shouting, "you promised", over and over again as he begins to cry. 

Zayn doesn't falter in his strides towards Danny’s car, but Louis can see the shake of his shoulders as he disappears inside the vehicle. Louis watches as the car disappears, Zayn going with it. Niall slumps in his arms and Louis carefully maneuvers him inside, shutting the door behind them. He cards his fingers through Niall's hair, glancing up and seeing Harry standing in the middle of the room staring at them.

"Where is Poppy going?" He asks, looking at Louis for answers. 

"He left, sweetie," Louis say, trying to keep his voice level. He doesn't want to give anything away to Harry, he doesn't want him to see the way his hands are shaking, the way his chest is rising and falling as he does his best to control his breathing, but the tears slipping from his eyes and falling down his face are a dead giveaway, and even Harry can read into them. 

"Only for a little while, right?" Harry says. 

"No," Niall says, pushing away from Louis. "Poppy is gone forever. Forever." 

Harry's eyes go wide, his bottom lip jutting out as it trembles and Louis feels another piece of his heart crack.

"Niall," Louis starts, only to be cut off by an angry Niall. 

"No. It's your entire fault. You said, you said we were his family. You lied. I heard. You lied. He lied. You’re all a bunch of liars and now he’s gone, he left, just like mom,” Niall cries, cheeks and eyes red, whether from angry or from his crying Louis doesn’t know, but he tries to step forward to reach his son, wants to attempt to comfort him but Niall shakes his head, stepping away from him. “Why did you have to lie? Why did you make him leave? I didn’t want him to leave. He left just like mom, everyone leaves.” 

And with that Niall takes off, running up the stairs and sobbing, the sounds ripping through Louis’ body as he leans against the door for support, his own hiccupping cries leaving his body. Niall’s door slams shut, causing both Harry and Louis to jump. 

“Poppy’s gone forever?” Harry asks, his bottom lip shaking. 

“I don’t know, baby,” Louis says, looking at Harry. “I don’t know.” 

“I don’t want him to be gone.”

Louis bites back the response on the tip of his tongue, the one that wants to tell Harry that neither does he, but he ignores it, swallowing it down, and instead says, “Where’s Liam?” 

Harry rubs at his eyes, wiping away the tears on his cheeks and points towards the couch; the one Liam always chooses to hide behind. Louis nods, rubbing against his eyes and taking a deep breath before he crosses the room, kneeling down next to couch. “Liam, can you come here? It’s okay, baby.”

He peeks behind it and sees Liam shake his head; his entire body shaking with it and Louis’ realizes that his youngest son is crying. He leans his head against the couch, breathing carefully as he tries to fight down his emotions because he made all three of his son’s cry, broke their hearts, broke Zayn’s heart and broke his own. And he can’t blame his children for wanting nothing to do with him, because he wants nothing to do with himself because is his fault.


	29. Chapter 29

Zayn rides in the car in silence, not wanting to speak to Danny about what happened in the car accident, or what happened with Louis while he was living with him or what happened with Louis to make him want to leave. He doesn’t know everything Danny knows, nor does he really care right now. He feels overwhelmed in a way that wears his body down, like he can’t catch his breath. His muscles feel tight, like his movement is limited, and his head is spinning. He can feel flashes of memories entering his mind, blinding him as they play out in his mind. 

He rests his head against the cool glass of the window, watching as house after house, street after street, city after city passes them by. He doesn’t keep track of the turns and twists of the streets, the ones leading him away from the lies, but he makes note of the time by watching as the sun disappears along the horizon, telling him just how much time and miles separate him from the Zayn he thought he was and the Zayn he really is. 

The car is slowing to a stop in front of a brick building with a rod iron fence and gate in front of it. Zayn sits up slowly, staring at the building for a moment before he remembers that his apartment is on the second floor, left side of the staircase. 

“I live here, right?” Zayn asks, tearing his eyes away from the building to look at Danny. He feels like he needs confirmation for everything and even though he can only remember Danny in patches, he knows that he was someone he trusted before the car accident, the one that robbed him of his life and not in a literal sense, not like Danny’s brother but in a different way. 

Danny nods, bobbing his head up and down. “Do you need me to stay with you for the night or will you be okay?” 

Zayn’s silent for a moment, mulling it over in his head before he sighs, shaking his head. “No, I think I’ll be okay. It’s been a really overwhelming day and I just want to be alone for a while. I still don’t have all the pieces of my life back, I can see some of them, but I’m missing chunks, specifically ones revolving around the accident and I just… I need time to figure this all out.” 

Danny nods his head, smiling sadly for a moment. “They said he didn’t feel anything when he died, they told me it was quick and painless. I’m not sure if I believe them, but… It’s better than knowing you both suffered, right?” 

Zayn swallows thickly, feeling ashamed that he can’t offer his friend more information about his brother’s death, but Zayn can't remember it. He can hear metal scraping against concrete, he can hear screaming and shouts, can smell the blood and the smoke of the car, but he can’t remember anything specifically, he can’t see any memories of the accident. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault, just sad I wasn’t here for you guys,” Danny says, a small smile spreading across his face. He looks at Zayn for a moment, fumbling around until he finds a pen and a napkin, scribbling some numbers on it. “This is my number. I’m assuming you lost your phone in the accident; I tried calling you when I got back but you never answered and after a few weeks of searching I heard about Anthony and the hospital. Anyway, call me if you need me, okay? Please, you’ve got a landline, don’t hesitate to use it.” 

“I will, thanks,” Zayn says taking the napkin. He smiles at Danny before he goes to step out of the car. 

“Shit, one more thing,” Danny says, forcing Zayn to wait. “The log in code for the gate and door is 3618, and this,” he pauses, turning off the car and pulling the key out of the ignition so he can take one off of the keychain, handing it over towards Zayn. “I’ve got the spare. Kind of how I figured out you hadn’t been around in a while.” 

Zayn nods, accepting the key before he steps away from the car. 

The key code works at the gate and at the front door and as he trudges up the stairs he feels a heavy weight settle in the bottom of his stomach, like he’s nervous to see what waits behind the wooden barrier. He slips the key in, taking a deep breath before he turns it, pushing open the door slowly. 

Flicking on the lights, Zayn is met with what he can only call a shitty apartment. It’s small, the couch and television pressed closed together in the corner and a little table with two chairs behind it, newspapers scattered across the top and empty take out bags and containers on top of them. The kitchen is right behind it, a row of counters separating the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. He locks the door behind him, turning all four locks until they’re secure. 

He doesn’t feel like trying to analyze and remember his life tonight, so he shuts the light off and tries to use his memory to find the bedroom, falling onto his mattress face first and falling asleep, his body exhausted and run down from the day. His last thought before he falls asleep is that tomorrow he’ll worry about what his life was like before Louis took him in and lied to him. 

~~~ 

Waking up in his new bed is peculiar, there’s no cold feet pressed again him, nobody lying on his pillow, or stealing the blankets. He can’t hear anyone else breathing, no movement as someone rolls around, snuggling into his legs or his ribs or gently kicking him. He lies there, staring at the ceiling and tries to push back the thoughts of what he was used to, because everything about what he remembers is a lie, everything that happened after the accident isn’t something he can believe or trust. 

But he thinks about Louis, wonders why he dragged a lie out for so long. Zayn feels like an idiot for having believed him. The signs were there, Liam having been terrified of him for so long, the children not being as comfortable as they were with Louis with him in the beginning. The fact that the kids looked nothing like him but everything like Louis, the way Louis freaked out when he tried to look at family photographs, and the way Niall was concerned about Zayn leaving. He wonders how Louis got them in it, how difficult it was for him to get three young children in on a lie and a pathetic plot at revenge. 

He crawls out of bed at the thought, glancing around for a beat before he finds his closet. He rummages around, trying his best to find his yearbook, wanting to look at the boy who lied to him. 

Zayn finds it in a box in the back. He traces his fingers over the cover; his fingers outlining the letters for a moment before he flips it open, turning the pages carefully until he reaches the one he wants. Louis is there smiling back at him, he’s younger, obviously, but he looks the same, minus the tiny traces of facial hair he was sporting when Zayn left. 

The boy looking up at him doesn’t look like the type of person to raise a family and to take in a man suffering memory loss and to lie to him about it. He looks happy and not like he was harboring hurt feelings from a pathetic, juvenile prank that Zayn a couple other guys pulled on him. He still remembers the prank and while he should have said sorry a long time ago, he doesn’t think the action required a life-changing lie. 

Zayn thought he was a husband and a father to three kids. He thought he had a family with Louis and that people loved him. He remembers how he felt when he first entered the house, like he didn’t belong and something was off, but then… It doesn’t matter what Zayn felt in the end because everything was built on a fabrication of the truth and not the actual truth. 

He’s not a husband. He’s not a father. He’s alone. 

Zayn looks at the book for a while longer before a wave of emotion washes over him, anger coursing through his veins as he stares at Louis’ smiling face. He screams, anger at Louis coursing through him before he throws the yearbook across his closet, watching as it bounces off the wall and land son the ground, pages flipping until it slams closed. He stares at it, breathing heavily and feeling like an idiot for having ever thought that what he had with Louis was genuine. An absolute fucking idiot and he absolutely hates himself for it. 

~~~ 

Zayn stares at the piece of paper in his hand and the phone in the other as he tries to figure out what he’s doing with both of them. The anger he felt earlier is gone, replaced by confusion and loneliness. He can’t remember the last time he got to spend time alone, even with Louis he was with Liam when no one else was home and it didn’t matter if he took a nap, because Zayn was with him, but now… He feels like his skin is crawling, the deafening silence too much for him, so he dials the number and presses the phone against his ear and waits. It rings once and then twice before he hears a tired Danny saying, “Hello?”

“I, um, I’m alone,” Zayn says, figuring that Danny probably knows the number and there’s no point in beating around the bush, not when he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. 

“Yeah man, you’ve been living alone for a while,” Danny says and Zayn hears a shuffling on the phone, followed by a girl’s voice. “Yeah, it’s Zayn,” he hears Danny say followed by more movement until there’s silence. 

“It’s just me here?” 

“Yeah, I think it’s been about… a year? A little more actually since it was a year before the accident, so almost two years now since you lived with anyone. Do you remember any of this?” Danny asks and Zayn shakes his head, forgetting that Danny can’t see him. 

“No. I’m still having trouble getting it all back, for some reason it’s not as clear when I get to more current stuff. I’m sure I’ll remember it at some point, right?” 

“I don’t know,” Danny says. “But I guess I’ll clue you in. You used to date this girl, Leigh-Anne. You were engaged but last minute, right before the wedding, you both called it off. I’m not sure I should be the one to tell you why, it’s none of my business and I’ve always been there for you man, but if you’re having trouble with your memory, call Leigh, she’ll be able to help you out.” 

“Why would she help me out? We called off our wedding?” Zayn says slowly, because he can’t really remember Leigh-Anne or an engagement or a wedding but he trusts that Danny is telling him the truth, prays that he’s not telling him a lie like Louis did. 

“You’re still friends, man. Find a pen and I’ll give you her number. You can call her and she’ll help you out. I know she was worried sick when I called her and said you and Anthony were missing.” 

Zayn nods his head, leaving his bedroom in search of a pen. He closes his eyes for a moment, doing his best to remember where he would keep things like that. He thinks for a moment before his eyes snap open and he makes his way into the kitchen, pulling open the drawer on the right of the fridge next to the wall, top one that’s filled with pens and paper and other small office supplies and tiny tools like screwdrivers. He grabs one of the pens and a notepad and jots down the number that Danny gives him. 

After they’ve hung up he stares at the number for thirty minutes, working up the courage to contact another person and trust them with information about his life. It’s hard to do, putting his memories in the hands of someone else and hoping that they can fill in the gaps and give him back his life. He knows it’s not this easy but he knows that he can’t do it alone, even Louis had to help him get back a couple memories. He decides to take a leap, calling Leigh-Anne and hoping she’ll have all the missing pieces of his mind or at least the clues to help him find them. 

~~~ 

Leigh-Anne isn’t what he expected. And it’s not like he really had much in mind to begin with, but having sat around for two hours, waiting for her to show up, he let his mind wander. He imagined she’d be tall with long flowing brown hair down her back, sparkling brown eyes. And he was right on one account, the brown eyes, but the rest of her is different. She has black hair and curly hair that frames her face, Zayn gets a mouthful of it when she jumped into the apartment and latches onto him, muttering how grateful she is to find out he’s okay. Pulling away, she continues talking, shutting his apartment door and telling him how when she called his phone, she just thought that maybe he had forgotten to charge it again or he was trying to be a recluse again, but when Danny told her he was missing, she nearly lost her mind. She finishes with a huff, pulling off her jean jacket and tossing it onto the back of his couch. 

Zayn looks at her, wondering what he can say to someone that he doesn’t remember fully. And it’s frustrating because his memories still aren’t back but has the general idea of his life. Like, falling off his bike when he was thirteen and getting a series of scabs along his arm and stomach from where his shirt pulled up. Or, how when he was in school he was great at sports but stopped playing before college because he didn’t like the pack mentality of all the teams he played for. Or the time his parents fought so badly that he thought they were going to get a divorce.

He can remember bits and pieces but not the whole thing, and he can see the girl in front of him in his mind, but he can’t place her in memories, just a girl with a blurry background, like the dream he had about the locker room. 

“Danny says you’re alone,” she says, starting the conversation off since Zayn doesn’t think he’ll be able too, and he’s grateful for it. “He said you called him earlier?” 

“You spoke with him?” Zayn asks because when he called her earlier she had no idea that Danny had even found Zayn, or that she should have been expecting his phone call. 

“I did, on the way over,” she says, nodding her head. She motions towards the chairs at the table and Zayn nods, rushing forward to gather the papers on top of it – he threw away the empty containers this morning, but he left the newspapers for some reason, having wanted to read through them to see what was going on before he got into the accident – and drops the papers on the ground, figuring he’ll get back to them later. He slides into the seat across from her and waits, hoping she’ll say something else. 

“Why were you worried about being alone?” 

“I wasn’t, not really. It’s just. I’ve spent the last however many months living with some guy and his kids. He lied to me, said he was my husband and they were my kids, but learning the truth I thought that, maybe, there would be more for me here, but I’m alone,” Zayn says, hoping she’ll understand what he’s trying to say. 

“Danny mentioned you had a family, had three little boys.” Zayn nods. “Do you have any pictures of them?” Leigh-Anne asks.

Zayn feels his stomach drop and clench, like he could be sick right in the middle of his shitty apartment. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “No, I don’t, and they’re not mine. Louis lied to me. He—I did something awful to him when we were younger and I don’t remember the accident but he was in the hospital and the nurses said we were married, so I went home with him and his kids hated at me at first, wanted nothing to do with me, besides one, Harry. He’s the sweetest little boy, so loving and kind, but the other two were always nervous and I thought, wow, I must be the worst father in the world. 

“And I felt terrible for so long, but they slowly warmed up to me and in the end… In the end I thought they were mine, Louis’ too. I would have done anything in the world for them, but it was a lie. He brought me home because he wanted to hurt me over something I did over ten years ago,” Zayn explains, leaving out the details about the ache in his chest and the knife in his back, the one that keeps twisting and diver deeper and deeper into his skin, radiating pain throughout his body. He doesn’t tell her that he feels betrayed and even more confused that he was when he first came home from the hospital, home to Louis and his kids. He swallows it all, every feeling and every emotion about what happened to him. And he hopes Danny was wrong and that Leigh-Anne doesn’t know him as well as she thinks he does, he’s not sure he wants her to see his true feelings on what happened. 

“What bothers you the most about what happened?” 

“I don’t know,” Zayn says, shaking his head, and Leigh gives him a look, one eyebrow raised to let Zayn know that she’s not buying it, and Zayn curses because she knows him far better than he thought she could, enough to know that he’s hiding something from her. “I’m not sure what bothers me the most, but I know that I thought I was in love with him and that he was in love with me, and those little boys were mine, but they’re not mine and he doesn't love me. And I have no fucking idea why I bought into it because it’s obvious that he never gave a shit about me and that he lied about everything, it’s been obvious from the start, but I’m an idiot. I’m so fucking stupid. Why would I believe him?” 

“Maybe you clung onto it for a reason,” Leigh says, lifting up her arms and looking around, getting Zayn to look at the life he was living before Louis’ lie. “You live in a shitty apartment, no offense, I know you love it and you think it has character or whatever but it’s awful, truly awful. And it’s been a nightmare to try and get you out of this place, especially since we broke up.” 

“Danny said we were engaged, why did we break up?” Zayn asks, seeking a change of topic since talking about what happened to him from after the accident until now is making his stomach hurt and his chest ache in a way that leaves him breathless. 

“It was the right thing to do,” she says, nodding her head slowly, and Zayn gives her a look, one that makes her smile. “We were very happy, we loved each other, but didn’t love each other in the way two people who want to spend the right of their lives together do and should.”

“And how did we love each other?” Zayn asks, rubbing his thumb along his jaw line. 

Leigh-Anne sighs, leaning back in her chair and shaking her head. “We loved each other as two people who had been friends for a very, very long time.” 

Zayn looks at her for a moment, studying her carefully and processing her words in his head. When he looks at her he can see it, the night they ended things. He can’t hear the words but he can see her crying and smiling at him and it just feels like the end of something important, but it’s not… It’s not the feeling of two people who had been lying to each other about feelings; it feels like something else, something he’s not sure about. “That’s not the only reason we broke up, is it?” 

“No,” she whispers, shaking her head. “It’s not.” She smiles at him, her head tilts to side, curls bouncing when she moves her head. “The night before the rehearsal dinner you said that you were gay. We were living in an apartment together and you sat me down in our bedroom, and brushed your fingers through my hair and smiled at me with such sadness in your eyes that it made my chest hurt. You told me that you were going to tell me something important and that it would change both of our lives, but that I shouldn’t be worried about it because it’s been a long time coming. So you told me, and I think a part of me always knew. You’re not the best at hiding things, not from the people you care about at least. And I’m happy you told me, because the last thing I want for you is to live an unhappy life.”

Zayn nods his head, remembering the scene as she tells him, but he remembers something else. “I told everyone at the rehearsal dinner the next day as well, didn’t I?” He can see the way his hands shook as he stood up, clearing his throat and gathering the attention of the room, Leigh-Anne on one side of him and Danny on the other. 

“Together we explained the broken engagement, but you told them why. You said it was important to be true to yourself, that’s why you got the tattoo on your collarbone.”

Zayn can remember it, taking Leigh-Anne to the tattoo parlor to get it done a week after the rehearsal dinner. It was the same day she got ‘believe’ tattooed across the back of her neck. It makes a pleasant feeling settle in his stomach to know that she was able to forgive him and to stay just as important to him after he lied to her about his sexuality. 

“You know,” says Zayn, carefully, a sudden rush of memories coming back to him at once. “I was out before we dated. I… I had told my parents during my first year of college, right before I dropped out. They kicked me out of the house and didn’t speak to me until we got engaged, I lived with Danny and then I moved in with you.” He can remember it, the hopeless and helpless feelings he had at his parents turning their backs on him for being honest with them about who he was, their disgusted looks and angry words. “They don’t, um… I don’t talk to them anymore, do I?”

Leigh-Anne smiles at him sadly and shakes her head a little bit. “No, baby, you don’t talk to them anymore.” 

“I thought dating you would make them want to see me again, but that. I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry,” he says, because he understand what it’s like to think the person you’re with is one way and feels one way, but then only to find out that everything was a lie. 

“You don’t have to apologize to me. It’s fine, honestly. It’s been over a year, we’re good, yeah? Now, come on. We’re going out for lunch and you’re going to tell me more about what happened at that man’s house, Louis or whatever,” she says, smiling widely as she stands up. 

And Zayn nods his head because he has no one else to talk to, no one else in his life besides Danny and he could really use a venting session about Louis Tomlinson. 

~~~ 

Zayn lies in bed, the lights off and blankets loose around his waist. There’s a yellow glow casted across the room, the streetlights shining through the broken blinds on his windows. He doesn’t have curtains, not like Louis’ does where he can pull them out and submerge himself in absolute darkness. He can hear one of his neighbor’s televisions drifting through the walls or the floorboards, he’s not sure, but the sound makes him feel even more alone than he actually is. 

It’s quarter after two and Zayn sighs, getting out of bed and going into the living room for one of the throw pillows on his couch. It’s worn down and plaid, something he thinks he found at a second hand shop, but he’s not sure. He takes it back to his bedroom, moving the two pillows he was using and placing that in their spot. He crawls back into bed and sets one of the pillows on top of his legs and the other one behind the pillow from his couch, making sure it rests in the right spot so he can feel it against the top of his head. He uses the two other pillows on the other side of his bed, the ones that have been lying there neglected, and rests them against both of his sides, barricading himself in the middle of the bed. 

And he sighs, because it’s not the right amount of pressure or weight on the bed, but it’s enough to make his eyes flutter closed and let sleep overtake his body.


	30. Chapter 30

Louis rests his head against the couch and takes a deep breath, he can hear Harry crying on the other side of the room, whimpering into the relative silence of the room, and each cry is like a knife to his chest, especially knowing that he’s the cause of it all. Liam’s still behind the couch and Louis can hear as he tries to hide his cries, can feel him pressing into the furniture with his body, probably his face if Louis had to guess, and it hurts him even more, because he caused this. It was his stupid mistake to bring Zayn into their house and their lives, and it was his stupid mistake to continue to lie to him. He could have worked harder to tell him the truth and to make sure that it didn’t go on for longer than it should have, but Louis has never been good at knowing when to stop. And even still, even with the sound of his sons’ cries and the shattering of five hearts, he doesn’t think he can regret what he did. 

He’s trying, he really wants to take everything back, or to at least feel like he should be taking everything back, but that would include his feelings for Zayn, and he’s not sure that he could part with those. He’d spent so long convincing himself that he could feel nothing, but he was wrong, so wrong. His heart feels like it’s going to implode from an array of things, like the overwhelming feelings he has for Zayn, the ones that stopped from him telling him about the lie, and also from the pain he feels from seeing Zayn walk out of their lives, the pain he feels from knowing that he broke the four people that mean the most to him. And it feels like he can’t breathe properly, because all he can hear is the breaking of his own heart and the cries of his children. 

Louis gives himself a minute to take a deep breath, he rubs his head against the couch before he pulls away to try and convince Liam it’s okay to come out. Glancing behind the couch he sees Liam looking at him sadly, like he wants to crawl out and curl up in Louis’ lap, but he’s torn, not sure what he should be doing right now. 

“Liam, sweetheart, can you come out from behind the couch?” Louis asks, his voice carefully quiet and controlled, doing his best to make sure his emotions are hidden. 

Liam shakes his head, scooting further back form behind the couch. Louis’ not sure if Liam is crying because of Zayn leaving, if he’s old enough to understand what that could mean, or if he’s crying because he could feel the energy in the room, could sense the emotions swirling around between people. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. Can you come out and talk to Daddy? Please,” Louis begs, watching as Liam shakes his head. 

“No,” Liam mutters, quiet and timid. 

Louis takes a deep breath and does his best to not feel anything, because if allows himself to feel anything then the gaping hole in his chest, the tight feeling that’s pinching at him repeatedly will take over, and right now he needs to focus on Liam. He doesn’t deserve to have his son near him, but he needs him, and having Liam behind the couch just reminds Louis of how fucked up this entire situation is, because Liam only retreats behind the couch when he’s scared, or nervous, or worried, or all the other emotions that a small child shouldn’t be feeling in the presence of their father. 

“Harry, can you get Liam, please?” Louis asks, pulling away from the couch to look at his middle child. The only Tomlinson in the entire house who doesn’t know how to properly hold a grudge is Harry, and while he doesn’t want to abuse his generous nature, he really needs someone to convince Liam it’s okay to come out. 

Harry takes a deep shaky breath and nods his head, stepping around Louis and crouching in front of the opening. “Lili, will you come out?” 

Louis peeks around Harry’s shoulder and sees Liam shaking his head, but he’s moved closer to Harry, which is progress. 

“Lili, Daddy said we can have ice cream if you come out,” Harry says, and Louis definitely did not say that, but he’s not opposed to having a little snack. He thinks the entire family could use something that’s proven to mend broken hearts. 

“Daddy,” Harry says, pulling his face out from behind the couch to look at Louis. “Maybe you should leave.” 

“I’ll go and see if Niall wants ice cream,” Louis says, standing up and brushing off his knees. He knows that Niall probably wants nothing to do with him, but he thinks it’s worth the effort to try. 

He can’t hear anything when he presses his ear to Niall’s door besides a quiet shuffle and short huffs of air. He rattles the doorknob and sees that it’s locked, something he’s not used to, and it’s just another reminder of how badly he’s fucked up. 

“Niall, sweetie, do you want some ice cream?” Louis asks and as soon as the words leave his mouth he wants to laugh, because it’s entirely too fucked up. He’s shattered his children’s hearts, he’s crushed the heart of the man he loves, and he’s broken his own heart, but he’s getting ready to serve ice cream, like it’s magic and it’ll make all the bad things in their lives disappear. 

“Go away,” Niall says and Louis knows he should listen, but he just can’t seem to get his body to move away from Niall’s door, but he knows that he needs to. 

“All right,” he says, letting go of the doorknob and nodding his head. “Niall, I’m sorry he left. I’m so sorry; you have no idea how sorry I am. I, um, I’ll give your space. I’ll have Harry bring your dinner up for you later.” 

Niall doesn’t reply so Louis leaves, making his way down the stairs to see Harry no longer sitting next to the side of the couch. He finds him in the kitchen, standing next to Liam at the kitchen table, holding his hand and telling him that he doesn't want him behind the couch anymore, he misses him when he’s back there. Louis does his best to avoid the conversation while he gets three bowls, a yellow one for Harry, and two blue ones for him and Louis. He’s still convincing himself he’s not listening as he gets the ice cream out of the freezer, but it all goes out the window when he hears Liam says something about yelling and anger and being sad. 

He tunes into the conversation after that, listening as Harry tells him that it’s okay now because they’re getting ice cream and Liam loves ice cream, a statement that causes Liam to nod his head. Harry tells him to wait at the table while he goes to see if he can help get the ice cream. And while Louis knows that Harry doesn’t actually know that he was spying on their conversation, he still pretends not to notice him walking towards him, busying himself with pouring the first scoop of ice cream into a bowl. 

“Daddy, are you done yet? Liam’s out and I’m hungry,” Harry says. 

“Almost, love, just another scoop and we’re set to go,” Louis says, smiling down at his son. 

“Daddy, is Poppy coming back?” Harry asks, and Louis busies himself with scooping ice cream into bowls, giving everyone two scoops instead of one because he royally, royally fucked up this time, and he’s not sure what else to do besides spoil them with sweets. “Daddy?” 

“Baby, I don’t know,” Louis says, because he doesn’t want to lie. He’s made enough promises to people that he wasn’t able to keep, and he doesn’t want a promise of Zayn’s return to be another, because he’s almost certain that this is something that doesn’t deserve Zayn’s forgiveness and Zayn’s return. 

He glances down at Harry and sees that he’s frowning, so he decides to add a third scoop of ice cream and hopes it’s enough to make a slight difference in how Harry feels about him right now. 

“I miss him,” Harry says, leaning forward to rest his head against Louis’ leg. “Do you think he misses me?” 

“He’d be crazy not to, darling. Here, take your ice cream,” he says, grabbing the yellow bowl and handing it to Harry. Harry’s eyes light up when he sees how much is inside of it, smiling at Louis before he rushes towards the table to eat. 

“Li, look at how much I got,” he hears Harry say as he gathers his own bowl and one for Liam, carrying it to the table. He sets it down in front of Liam and tentatively smiles at him, hoping he hasn’t scared his youngest, but Liam smiles at him busies himself with the ice cream. 

Louis doesn’t deserve the relief that washed over his body at the sight of the smile. 

~~~

Louis settles into bed early for the night, shutting the light off and crawling under the blankets on his side of the bed and lying there. It hits him while he's alone in bed that Zayn is gone. He know it, having watched it with his own eyes, and having seen the way his children cried, and the way Niall has been avoiding him all night, but he feels it now. Maybe it's because he doesn't have the distraction of his kids, or maybe it's because it's the first night in months that he's gone to sleep right after the putting the kids to bed, no extra weight on the bed from another body, no one snaking their arms around his waist while he brushed his teeth. It's just him; it’s just Louis and a half empty bed that smells like someone he wishes was wrapped around him. 

It's driving him crazy, the thoughts of Zayn and his absence from his life. But he feels like he deserves it, he deserves the pain of the abandonment. He's not even sure he can call it that. Does it count as abandonment if your entire relationship was built on a life manufactured in a hospital after the loss of a memory? Does it count as abandonment when the person who left was living a lie, even if the lie of a life is one that he fit into so seamlessly? 

He’s only been gone a few hours, but Louis misses him, his chest aches with it. It’s like a heavy weight on his chest as he lies on his back staring at his ceiling. He carefully avoids Zayn’s side of the bed, too afraid to disturb it, like if he rolls over and clutches Zayn’s pillow to his chest and breathes in his scent then it’ll be real, like everything that happened today wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He knows it’s real, but he’s not ready to admit it to himself by taking over one of the things that had begun to be strictly Zayn’s. 

But he does roll onto his side and look at the empty space on the bed, the one where Zayn should be, and think about what he’s done. 

A part of him wishes he could lie and say that he doesn’t have a clue why he went along with the hospitals error, but he knew what he was getting himself into. He wanted to hurt Zayn, he wanted him to feel the same pain and humiliation he felt years ago, but then, when the moment happened that Louis saw the result he wanted written on Zayn’s face, he wished he could take it back, because in that moment he truly realized the mistake he was making. He realized that what happened to him in high school wasn’t something that needed to be avenged; it wasn’t anything that affected the rest of his life, or the quality of his life. His life is amazing, or it was, and he was foolish to believe that he needed to make up a sick and twisted lie about another person’s life in order to feel better about his shitty past. 

But then there is another part of him that’s not at all sorry for what he did, because it allowed him to get to know Zayn better. It allowed him to get to know Zayn in a way he was never able to, in a way that caused him to fall in love with the other boy. And he loves Zayn, not the idea of Zayn or the fact that was great to his kids or whatever other bullshit reason he tries to come up to convince himself that he’s not really in love with Zayn, but he is, and it’s his fault that things can never work out again. 

Louis falls asleep with tears rolling down his cheeks, his hand lying on the edge of Zayn’s side, and his heart broken. 

~~~

When Louis wakes up in the morning it’s to find only Liam and Harry in his bed, Niall having stayed in his room for the night, and that hurts more than Zayn’s absence. 

~~~ 

“I don’t want to,” Liam says, looking at Louis with sad eyes. 

Louis has just told him that he’s going to be spending the day with Mrs. Hamilton while he goes to work, a statement that caused Liam to frown and shake his head. Louis has a firm grip on his arm to make sure he can’t make a break for the couch, because Louis doesn’t have it in him, nor does he have the time to convince Liam to come out from behind the couch. 

“Liam, you can’t come to work with Daddy, it’s too dangerous,” Louis lies, and he shouldn’t be lying at all, but it’s not something that could get him in trouble, and it’s not something that could hurt Liam, because he’ll likely never get caught. He could take Liam to work, could have him sit in his office with Nick while he works, but he thinks Liam will have a better time with Mrs. Hamilton, he used to love going over there. “Don’t you want to draw with Mrs. Hamilton? She was telling me how she bought a new pack of crayons for you, even baked you some cookies.”

“I don’t want to,” Liam repeats, trying to tug his arm out of Louis’ grip. 

“Liam, sweetie, you don’t have a choice. I need to take you over there so I can get Niall and Harry to school. I have to get to work, baby.”

“Where’s Poppy?” Liam asks, looking around frantically. “Where’s Poppy?” 

“He’s gone,” Niall says, jumping off the last stair. Louis turns around to look at him, frowning. “Forever.” Liam’s eyes go wide, his movements still as he looks at Niall. “You’ll never see him again.” 

“Niall, don’t upset him,” Louis warns. 

“Why not? He’s already upset, he doesn't want to go and see stupid Mrs. Hamilton.”

“She’s not stupid.” 

“He wants to see Poppy but you ruined it. You made him leave, why did you make him leave?” Niall shouts and Louis has to pick Liam up and hold him in his arms because he’s already begun squirming in Louis’ grasp because Niall’s shouting. 

“Niall, I understand you’re angry with me, you have every right to be angry with me, and I promise not to ask you to stop being angry, but you can’t yell around Liam, it scares him. You can’t hurt him because you’re cross with me.”

Niall glares at him and it’s the angriest he’s ever seen his eldest, and it makes Louis chest ache, like there’s a rubber band around his heart, squeezing and squeezing and making it difficult to breathe. Niall’s his happy baby, his little burst of sunlight that spun his world around and set it on the axis it should have been on, is angry with him, and he has no idea how to handle that, mostly because he deserves it. 

“Why did you have to lie and make Poppy leave? Why isn’t he here with us?” Niall asks miserably, sucking in a harsh breath. “Why does everyone leave?” 

“Niall, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know, I don’t know the answer to any of those, I’m sorry, but I don’t think Zayn is going to come back. I don’t… I’m not sure,” Louis says, hating himself for having to say it. 

“Don’t call him that,” Niall says, rubbing the back of his hand against his eyes. “His name’s not Zayn.” 

“All right, I won’t, sorry,” Louis says, adjusting Liam in his arms. “I’m going to walk Liam next door and then we’re going to leave, so go and get Harry, please. He’s upstairs playing with his toys. I’ll be back in a minute.” 

Niall doesn’t say anything when he runs up the stairs so Louis takes it as he heard him and leaves the house, taking a softly sighing Liam over to Mrs. Hamilton’s for the day.


	31. Chapter 31

“Do you want to talk about it?” Nick asks, tapping his fingers against the desk. Louis listens, his skin prickling with annoyance at the sound. 

“Not really,” Louis replies, focusing on the stack of paperwork in front of him. He’s already finished it, but he has nothing left to do for the day and reading over the invoices to see if any revisions need to be made sounds better than talking to Nick about what happened with Zayn. 

Nick knows that he left, Louis didn’t even have to say anything, because being late to work everyday for two weeks is enough to let Nick know that his life has fallen back into it’s old routine. The one where he doesn't have help feeding and clothing his kids, and making sure they have everything they need for school or Mrs. Hamilton’s house. Being with Zayn was the only time since Eleanor has left that Louis has made it to work at the time he’s supposed to be rather than an hour later. 

“You, I’ve been kind enough to let it go, but you’ve been pretending to read that sheet of paper for about a half an hour now, and yesterday you offered to help sort the mail in order to avoid being in here with me, just like everyday for the past two weeks. I haven’t pushed you, because you probably need your time and space, but it’s been two weeks, and you need to talk about it,” Nick says, and suddenly the paper is being snatched out of Louis’ hands. 

“What do you want me to say Nick?” Louis asks, leaning back in his chair. “Do you want me to tell you how the hospital called because his friend, brother to the guy who died in the accident, finally came back in the country and was looking for him? Do you want to tell you how he confronted me in front of my kids and practically broke down in my living room? Or, I don’t know, maybe we could talk about how he walked out of my fucking door and I haven’t seen or heard from him in two weeks?” 

“Louis, you don’t have to talk about what happened, but you should talk about how you’re feeling,” Nick reasons. “If anything.” 

“How do you think I’m feeling, Nick? Niall has said about thirty words to me in the last two weeks, most of them being ‘no’. Liam’s scared, all the time. I swear he has some kind of sixth sense that picks up even the tiniest amount of tension in the house; I can’t get the kid to relax. Harry has resorted to walking on eggshells around people, and by eggshells I mean ones made out of tiny little jokes that he tries to crack every three minutes, because if he continues to be funny, then Niall won’t hide back in his room. I’ve spent every night this week wondering if I should remove the lock from my son’s door because I can’t even sneak in at night to make sure he’s okay, he hates me, with good reason. My family is being held together by a thread, a thin, flimsy piece of thread that is threatening to unravel every single day, so forgive me for not wanting to come into work and listen to your ‘I told you so’s,” Louis huffs, releasing a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he stares at Nick. 

“You’re obviously handling it really well,” Nick says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Clearly keeping it bottled up is helping not only you, but your children as well.” 

Louis sighs, clenching his hand into a fist. “I’m doing the best I can, Nick. I fucked up, and I’m trying to figure out how to fix it, okay? What more do you want from me?”

“Louis, I was here when Eleanor left, and I remember how difficult it was for you and I remember how you tried to keep it all bottled up and you eventually broke down, so please, for the sake of your now older children, who are likely to remember this, please talk to me about what happened,” Nick says, practically pleading with Louis to tell him something. Louis knows he’s kept everything protected under lock and key, because he doesn’t want someone else to tell him what he already knows. 

It’s his fault, and the clues have been there since the beginning that he shouldn’t have done it, but he did, and the pain and pressure in his chest is too much for him to want to hear someone else tell him that he’s a fucking idiot. He doesn’t to hear it, and he doesn’t need Nick looking at him in judgment as he explains what happened. But Nick’s right, this can’t be a repeat performance of when Eleanor left, so Louis talks. 

“He’s gone,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. “He’s wherever he was before he came to my house and he’s probably enjoying his life, or just… I don’t fucking know, Nick. I have absolutely no idea how to get my family back. It was easier before, Harry and Liam were too young to understand, they barely noticed she had left, they don’t even remember her now, but Niall, it took him a while but he wasn’t so angry with me. My kids are never angry with me, Nick, they’re just not, and I have no idea what to do with myself because they’re so hurt, and so frustrated.

“Niall doesn’t talk to me, I pick him up from school and he sits in the backseat with Harry now, just staring out the window while Harry tells me about his day. Then, he takes Harry inside while I get Liam, and he does his homework at the table while I cook dinner, but he doesn’t talk to me, and after dinner he goes up to his room until I tell him to take a shower. He does everything and if he’s forced to talk to me, it’s a few a mumbled words here and there. I have to bribe Harry to convince Niall to play in the living room so I can see my son, do you have any idea how fucking hard that is?” 

“Louis, he’s ten and I know it might not seem like it now, but he loves you, and he’d never hold this grudge against you forever. I don’t have kids, and I’ll probably never understand what you’re going through, none of you, but don’t take it to heart what Niall is doing. He loves you, but he needs to cope in his own way, and it might hurt you now, but you have to let him heal. He needs this time. Liam might still be too young to understand, he knows something bad went on, but he doesn’t get it. Harry, I mean, has he ever been angry a day in his life? Real anger, not the emotion he shows when you won’t let him sit on your lap,” Nick says, and Louis smiles, a tiny lift of the corner of his mouth. 

“I know that, it’s just hard. I miss my happy babies, I really do. And I,” Louis sucks in a breath, rubbing his thumb against the top of the desk, “I miss Zayn. I find it so hard to regret what I did, because like, if I hadn’t then I wouldn’t have fallen in love with him, and I have a really hard time regretting something like that, but I am sorry. I wish I could tell him that.” 

“He fell into your life once, maybe he’ll do it again,” Nick reasons, shrugging his shoulders. 

“I doubt it,” Louis says, smiling sadly. 

“You’re hopeless,” Nick groans, rolling his eyes. “How do you feel about me going home with you after work, which is actually now, technically. I’ll follow you in my car, who knows, maybe another person in your house will lift the spirits of the place.” 

“Yeah, all right. We probably need someone else in the house, to be honest. I’ve got a few invoices to drop in the mail, you ready to go?” Louis asks. 

“Yeah, one second,” Nick says. Louis watches as he grabs a sheet of paper off his desk, folding it up and shoving it in his pocket. “Now I’m ready.”

~~~

“Uncle Nick is coming home with us,” Louis says, smiling at Niall and Harry through the rear-view mirror. 

Niall doesn't say anything, his head still turned to face away from Louis as he looks out of the window, an action Louis should be used to, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever be accustomed to it. 

“Where is he?” Harry asks, kicking his leg up and down in his seat. “Is he going to spend the night? He can sleep in my bed.” 

"No, he's not spending the night, Harry. He's got work tomorrow and you've got school, no sleepovers on school nights, that's the rule," Louis says, smiling when Harry crinkles his nose on distaste." He just wanted to see you guys, so he's going to come over for a little while. That's okay, right?" 

"Right," Harry agrees, nodding his head. "Will Uncle Nick cuddle? I think we should cuddle." 

"Maybe he'll give out a cuddle or two, you never know, but Harry, you have to remember to share his time and attention, I'm sure your brothers will want to see him," Louis reasons, switching on his blinker and turning onto their street. 

“Niall, are you going to play with me and Uncle Nick?” Harry asks. 

“I have to do my spelling homework, Harry. Maybe,” Niall says, his voice quiet. Louis peeks in the mirror right before he turns into their driveway to see Niall giving Harry a soft smile as he undoes his seat belt. 

Louis puts the car in park, unbuckling himself before he steps out to take care of Harry. Niall’s half way to the door before Louis gets Harry out of the car. 

“Uncle Nick,” Harry shouts, rushing towards Nick as he steps out his car. Louis grabs his bag and follows behind, smiling as he watches Nick sigh and patting Harry on the head, his son gripping onto Nick’s leg. 

“It’s always a pleasure to see your children, Louis. Where are the other four?” Nick asks, glancing around the yard with one of his hand’s held above his eyes, shielding it from the sun. 

“Shut up,” Louis says, rolling his eyes. “The key with the red thing over it is the house key, and here is Harry’s back pack, I’m going to go get Liam.” He hands the bag over and waits for Nick to take them before he goes to get Liam from Mrs. Hamilton’s. 

Liam’s found it easier to go to the neighbor’s for the day; he stopped panicking after the third day, and stopped asking where Zayn was on the fourth. Louis’ grateful he’s accommodating, he’s happy that he no longer asks him everyday where Zayn is and why he can’t spend the day with him. It took a week for Liam to leave Mrs. Hamilton’s house with a smile on his face, and today he leaves with a smile and a drawing of a dog as he tells Louis about the gardening he did the backyard. 

Liam’s reaction to seeing Nick isn’t as enthusiastic as Harry’s is, his eyes widen as he steps behind Louis, peeking out from behind his legs. 

“Will he ever like me?” Nick asks as way of greeting, staring right back at Liam with a similar expression on his face. 

“He’s just quiet, and a little shy. He prefer his family,” Louis says, ruffling Liam’s hair with his hand, messing it up before fixing it quickly. “Li, show Uncle Nick the dog you drew, I bet he’ll like it.” 

“No,” Liam says, shaking his head and hiding the paper behind his back. “Don’t want to.” 

“Lili, that’s not nice,” Harry scolds, frowning at his brother. “I want to see it, show us.” 

Liam looks up at Louis for confirmation that he should do it and Louis nods his bed, smiling at Liam. “Show them, they’ll love it. It’s gorgeous. I’m going to tape it up in my bedroom later.”

Liam nods his head and pulls the paper out from behind his back, taking a step away from Louis so every one can get a proper look. 

“Wow,” Harry gasps, his eyes going wide as a smile spreads across his face. “Liam, you’re so good.” 

Liam blushes, his shoulders rising a bit. 

“Uncle Nick, isn’t that the best drawing you ever saw?” Harry asks, turning around to look at Nick. 

“I’d have to say that it’s done rather well,” Nick says, nodding his head in approval. “It’s a lovely drawing, Liam.” 

“Thanks,” Liam says, handing the sheet of paper to Louis. “I drawed it.” 

Louis glances up to see Niall sitting at the kitchen table looking at them, studying them carefully before he goes back to doing his work. Louis frowns, a heavy feeling sinking into his gut. He hates more than anything about what happened with Zayn that his son is so aggravated with him. When he came up with this not-so-clever scheme to bring Zayn into their lives, he never anticipated what might happen between him and his children, or how it would properly affect them. He absolutely hates himself in every sense of the word. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Nick says, nudging Louis with his elbow. “After dinner I’ll follow him upstairs and we’ll have a heart to heart, like I said before, he’s upset with you, and he probably needs someone to talk to it about, all right?” 

“Yeah, all right,” Louis says, nodding his head. “I’m going to start dinner, can you keep them entertained? Please don’t do anything to make Liam go behind the couch, please. I’ve got no idea whatsoever if he’ll ever come out of it, if he goes back there again.”

“You act like he’s terrified of me,” Nick says, rolling his eyes at Louis. “Come on, we’re going upstairs.” Nick bends over and picks Liam up, the younger squeaking and giving Louis’ a terrified face as Harry smiles widely and rushes off after Nick. 

Louis watches them, sighing before he heads into the kitchen to cook, a painstaking task with his son ignoring him on the other side of the room. 

~~~ 

Louis is sitting on the couch waiting for Nick, chewing on his nails as he waits to hear what Niall has to say. He’s been in the room for almost an hour and as time ticks by slowly, Louis gets more and more anxious. 

Liam and Harry are lying on the floor, Harry trying to read a book to Liam, as a movie plays lowly in the background. He’s almost killed his entire nail by the time he hears a door close from the second level of their house. It takes a beat before he hears Nick making his way down the stairs and Louis is practically shaking with anticipation, watching as he strides across the room and drops down on the couch next to Louis. 

“I don’t know how you do it,” Nick says, huffing out a breath. 

“Do what?” Louis asks, staring at him in confusion. “What happened up there?” 

“I don’t know how you handle being a parent. I just, it was so stressful up there. We talked, obviously, and I think it helped that he was able to get it off his chest; he’s got a lot going on. He cried, a bit. He’s upset with you but he’s also confused. He doesn’t understand what you did and what happened. He doesn’t understand the concept of bringing someone into your life if they’re not going to stay, especially one that is supposed to be viewed as family. And while he’s upset with you, he’s mostly just sad that Zayn’s not here anymore,” Nick explains and Louis releases a sharp intake of breath. 

“What did you tell him?” Louis asks. 

“The truth, I said you’re hurting and you’re very, very angry with you. I also told him that you’re sad about Zayn leaving and that you’re mostly upset because he’s not talk to you. I told him you’d love to hear from him, and how you miss him,” Nick says. 

“All very true, mostly about missing him,” Louis says, frowning sadly. “God, Nick, I fucked up. I have no idea how to fix this.” 

Louis feels Nick shift around on the couch, the cushion shifting beneath him until it ceases and he sees Nick trying to shove the piece of paper from earlier into his hand. 

“That’s Zayn’s address, it took a while to find it, but I found that if you’re bored and have four hours to kill, you can find anything, like the address of the boy your best friend is in love with,” Nick says. “You know what you have to do, Louis. It’s not as complicated as you’re making it out to be.”

“Nick, it’s been two weeks,” Louis says, trying to get Nick to see reason. “It’s too soon, he’s not going to want to see me.” 

“You’re right, he probably won’t, but I doubt that will change in two months, two years, or even two lifetimes, but you not going, you’re giving him time to move on. You’re giving him time to forget you, his feelings for you, and to forget the family he had while he was here, so you can keep that address and you can wait until you think he’s had time to forgive you, or you can find him and fix what you fucked up,” Nick says. 

Louis stares at the paper in his hand, stroking his thumb along the inked letters spelling out Zayn’s location. He clenches his hand around it, crumbling bits of the paper as he looks back up at Nick. “Can you watch my kids while I’m gone?”


	32. Chapter 32

“Daddy, why are we packing bags?” Harry asks as Louis passes him another outfit to drop in the duffle bag he’s packing for all three of his sons. He’s worked it out with Nick that he’s going to leave today before work and after he drops the kids off at their respective daytime locations. Then, Nick will pick them all up when Harry and Niall get let out of school, and he’ll take them back to his place (they decided against them staying at Louis’ place, because Louis figures, if the conversation goes wrong, he’ll want a day to himself) and make sure everyone sticks to their schedules while Louis takes a few days to do whatever it is he needs to do with Zayn. 

He’s not sure how their conversation will go, if he’ll get a door slammed in his face after he’s shouted at and told to leave. He doesn’t know if Zayn is going to forgive him or not. He doesn’t expect it, not right away and probably not even at all, but he wants Zayn to know his side of things. He wants Zayn to know how he feels, and how at some point, maybe far sooner than he realized, it was no longer about hiding the truth and wanting to hurt Zayn, but about being too afraid to admit the truth, because he didn’t want Zayn to leave. 

It was a lie, but to Louis, it felt like the perfect family, and he wants Zayn to know how he feels about him, and how he feels in general about what happened. 

In all honesty, Louis has no fucking clue what he’s doing. He feels like his breathing is constricted if he thinks about it for longer than a few minutes, so he focuses on packing. He focuses on making sure his kids are going to be prepared to spend a few days with Nick Grimshaw, and that Nick will have everything he needs in these backs to make sure his kids are all right. 

“Daddy, why do we need bags?” Harry asks again, and Louis realizes he hasn’t answered him, too busy rummaging through his drawers for pajamas. 

“You, Niall, and Liam are going to spend the next couple days with Uncle Nick, Daddy has to go somewhere for a little while” Louis explains, grabbing three pairs of pajamas to be on the safe side. He tosses them into the bag that’s already filled with Niall’s clothes and the rest of Harry’s outfits and heads over towards Liam’s dresser for his clothes. 

“Why do we do that?” Liam asks, his younger son lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. 

“Liam, don’t you want to see Uncle Nick?” Harry asks, bouncing from his side of the room over towards Liam’s. “I love Uncle Nick, Daddy. He likes playing toys and he likes to cuddle.” 

Louis filters through Liam’s clothes, grabbing several of everything, barely listening to what his kids are saying. “Harry, can you make sure that you have everything you need in your book bag, and please tell Niall that he needs to brush his teeth and pack his bag. Your lunches are on the counter, all right?”

“All right, Daddy. Liam, you stay here,” Harry says, jumping off his bed and rushing out of the bedroom. 

Louis takes Liam’s clothes and drops it in the back, pressing it down with the palm of his hand, trying to cram it in more. He looks down at Liam, smiling at him. “If you want to bring toys, you have to get them now. We’ll grab some movies before we leave.” 

“Bring some colors?” Liam asks, sitting up slowly and Louis nods his head. 

“You can bring anything you’d like, maybe you should get a book. Harry can practice reading to you, and maybe, if you want, Uncle Nick can read to you,” Louis says, nodding his head, watching as Liam slides off his bed and makes his way over to where he keeps his crayons. 

“I want Harry,” Liam says, handing Louis a tiny fist full of five crayons. 

“How about I’ll get the crayons and you get some books,” Louis says, winking at him, and wanting the process to go by a bit quicker than the five trips it’ll take Liam to get as all his crayons. 

He’s bent over the crayon drawer when Harry comes rushing back into the room, his book bag bouncing against his back, curly hair flopping around. 

“Daddy, Niall wants to know if he can bring stuff to Uncle Nick’s house?” Harry asks, looking at Louis expectantly, one side of his body leaning towards him. “I think he wants to bring movies. Uncle Nick has very bad movies.” 

Louis sighs and nods his head, wishing again that Niall would break his silent treatment and say something to him, anything really. He’d prefer being yelled at to being ignored. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that maybe he’ll be able to fix it while he’s gone. Maybe. Hopefully. 

“Tell Niall, yes,” Louis says, shoving the crayons into a container and throwing them in the bag on the bed. 

~~~ 

The address is further away than Louis anticipated. It’s several towns over, taking him until almost lunchtime to get there. The only thing he knows from it is that at some point, when exactly he’s not sure, Zayn moved away from their hometown. 

It’s a small brick building, possibly filled with apartments, judging by the array of different window treatments he sees and the stairwell directly in front of the door. He steps out of his car slowly, double-checking the address on the paper with his current location before he locks his vehicle and walks up to the gate. 

Louis runs his fingers along the cold, iron fence, staring up at the building and taking a deep breath. There’s an assortment of buzzers on the side of the gate, little nameplates next to them telling him which one to press for the person he wishes to see. He sees ‘Malik’ on one of them, written in permanent marker in Zayn’s handwriting. 

He takes a deep breath, mustering all of his courage up as he raises a shaky hand up to press the button with his thumb. He can hear it ring until he releases it, and then, after a minute, he hears, “Can I help you?” 

It’s a girls voice and Louis’ heart sinks, dropping down to his feet, because he hadn’t anticipated anyone living with Zayn. He had thought because it had taken months for someone to realize he wasn’t at home that he’d live alone and Louis wouldn’t have to go through the awkward feelings of wondering if the girl is something more to Zayn. 

“Um, I’m looking for Zayn Malik,” he says, rubbing his sweaty palm against his pants. “My name is Louis, and the buzzer says this is his apartment, but I might have possibly hit the wrong one.” 

“Come to the second floor, it’s the one on the left,” she says, and then he hears the gate unlock. He pulls it open slowly, staring up at the left side of the apartment to see the blinds pulled down slightly. He tries to hide that he’s looking up, he just continues walking across the pathway until he reaches the front door. He tries to pull on it, but it’s locked, but before he can ring the buzzer again, it’s unlocking. 

He hesitates opening it, scared out of his mind to make his way up the stairs to talk to Zayn, but he reminds himself about Liam, and his pouting face when he crawled out from behind the couch after he left or the way he screamed Zayn’s name when they had to leave in the mornings. He reminds himself about Harry and how the small child is doing everything he can to try and hold the family together and the way he cried when Zayn left. But mostly, he reminds himself about Niall, his son who has lived through two people he loves walking out of his life, and that gives him the boost he needs to pull the door open and make his way up the stairs. 

~~~

There’s a woman standing in front of the door he was instructed to go when he reaches it. She eyes him expectantly, he dark eyes burning holes through him as they take in every inch of him. 

“Hi,” he says cautiously, dropping his arms down awkwardly at his thighs. “I’m looking for Zayn Malik’s apartment. I, uh, rung the buzzer and some girl let me up, but I’m not sure if it was you. Or if I’m even in the right building, a friend of mine gave me the address.” 

“I’m Leigh-Anne,” the girl says, folding her arms over her chest. She leans against the door, pulling one foot up to rest against the door as well instead of the floor. 

“I’m Louis. Louis Tomlinson. Do you know Zayn Malik?” He asks, feeling a bit uncomfortable under her gaze. 

“Your fake husband? Yeah, it’s his apartment behind me. He’s in the shower. We made plans to go out for lunch,” she says, tapping her long fingernails against her arm. 

“Oh,” Louis says, clearing his throat. For some reason, he hadn’t expected anyone to know about him, or what he had done. It’s a stupid thought, because of course Zayn had people waiting for him back at home, people who were dying to know what happened after the car accident. He was simple-minded to believe his lie would be kept between them. “I’m sorry, um, for what I did to him. He’s an amazing person… No, he’s the greatest person and he didn’t deserve what I put him through. I’m not sure what you are to him, a friend or what, but I’m sorry. I’d understand if you didn’t want to let me into that apartment, but it’s very important that I speak with him.” 

“Why?” 

Louis stares at her, releasing a shaky breath while he runs his fingers through his hair. “I’ve got three kids at home that are heart broken he’s gone, and I’ve got my own broken heart over him leaving, and he’s probably suffering from one as well, because of my lies, and my betrayal. He deserves to hear everything from the beginning until the end, and he deserves to know that it stopped being malicious and a lie a long time ago. Well, it continued being a lie, but it felt right. I don’t know how he feels, but I need him to know how I feel and how sorry I am, so please allow me to speak with him,” Louis begs, clasping his hands together in front of him. “I have no qualms about you joining us and tossing me on my ass outside at any point in time, but I need to see him. Please.” 

He’s prepared to get on his knees, prepared to grovel at her perfectly manicured feet in heels that should be illegal, forcing his feet into an awkward position that makes his toes hurt when he looks at them. 

The girl, Leigh-Anne, is staring at him carefully; his eyes squinted slightly as she slowly taps her fingers along her arm. Her gaze makes his skin crawl, because she knows about him and everything he’s done, and he wouldn’t blame her if she were to dive across the landing and punch him right in the jaw. He kind of hopes she will, anything to get her to stop staring at him and making him feel like a complete and utter moron, more so than he’s making himself out to be. 

“Why did you lie to him? He’s told me everything. We haven’t spoken about it since he’s come home, but I know it’s affected him. I’ve done my own research, you know. People with head injuries sometimes come out of it acting differently than how they used to. He’s still the same caring person, but he no longer locks himself away, he craves being around people. He no longer leaves his apartment a disaster, it’s spotless in there, and he’s cooking. He never does that, and it took me a week or so, but I realized it’s all things he did at your house. So I’ve got a fairly good idea of what took place while he was with you, but the only thing that I haven’t figured out is why you did it, and why you help onto it for so long,” she says. “So before I make my decision on whether you’re allowed to see him or not, because that decision is up to me, I need you to tell me everything. I want to know everything from beginning to end and when it stopped being a malicious lie, and I want to know how you feel. So pretend I’m him, tell me everything.” 

Louis looks at her for a moment, nodding his head slowly, and starts talking, the words pouring out of his mouth at an uncontrollable rate. 

~~~ 

Zayn’s apartment is small, smaller than Louis would have expected it to be, but it’s clean. It hardly looks like anyone has been living here, and he understands what Leigh meant when she said that he’s now obsessed with cleaning. The shower isn’t running, like Leigh said it should be, so he assumes that Zayn is getting dressed. 

Louis had the entire car ride over here and the entire night before to think about how he wanted to handle this situation, but nothing came to mind. And even though he told everything he wanted to say to Leigh-Anne, none of it is coming back to him. His mind feels blank as he sits down on Zayn’s couch, his hands resting on the cushion as he glances around. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Louis jumps, his heart hammering in his chest as he whips around to see Zayn glaring at him, fully clothed with wet hair, lying damp on his forehead. 

“Why are you here?” He repeats, his voice laced with anger. 

“Leigh-Anne let me in, I wanted to talk to you,” Louis says, standing up from the couch to look at Zayn. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s a decision that I get to make, not one you get to make for me. I think you’ve made enough decisions, now leave,” Zayn says, striding across the apartment and pulling the door open. 

“I didn’t know your phone number,” Louis says, dumbly, refusing to allow himself to be kicked out. “I would have called, but I didn’t know your phone number.” 

“I wouldn’t have answered either way. How did you find my address?” Zayn asks, still holding onto the door. 

“Nick did. He, um, figured that it would be best if we talked. Everyone at home is absolutely heart broken that you left, Niall especially, but everyone missed you. I’ve done a lot of things wrong, and I’d understand if you never forgave me for them, but I’m the father of three broken hearts, and I’ve got one myself, and I know you’re looking for answers, so I’d love for you to listen to what I have to say,” Louis begs. 

“Why should I listen to you?” He asks, staring at Louis, but the door has closed slightly and Louis takes that as a sign that Zayn wants to hear what he has to say. 

“I don’t know,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. “But I know that your role in my family’s lives was a lie, but only in the beginning. The way Niall, Liam and Harry grew to care about you was never a lie. The way I cared about you wasn’t a lie, and I know that the same goes for you. Everything thing you did for them, everything you did for me, none of that was a lie. And I know you might be feeling confused, hell even I feel confused, and it might not make any sense to you, but the only lie I ever told was that we had always been married and they had always been your kids.” 

“How can I believe anything that comes out of your mouth?” Zayn asks. “I hardly know you.” 

“I have everything to lose right now, Zayn. Lying is what got us here, I wouldn’t lie again,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “You can believe anything you want to believe today, but I can only say that it’s all the truth.” 

“You have five minutes and then I’m throwing you out on your ass, and you’re lucky you’re getting five,” Zayn says, slamming his apartment door shut. “Start talking.” 

“Zayn, I need more than five minutes,” Louis cries. 

“Jesus, all right, you have half an hour. Is that enough for you?” Zayn asks, looking at Louis expectantly as he sits down at his little table, motioning towards the chair across from him. 

Louis sits as quickly as possible, ready to tell Zayn everything; ready to do everything he can to win him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to cut it off, my apologies. The chapter would have been too long if I didn't, and based on what I already have written, there really wasn't a spot I could cut it off without feeling like the conversation was being robbed. I'm about 1.2k into the next chapter already, so it should only be a few days for the next update!


	33. Chapter 33

As ready as Louis feels, he realizes, belatedly, that he’s not prepared at all. He stares at Zayn from across the table, his mouth hung open slightly, and his mind completely blank. Zayn’s staring at him, his face carefully made to look bored, an expression he knows that Zayn has perfected. It’s the look he used to give everyone in high school, the one he used to send in Louis’ direction after the locker room incident, and the one he knows now to mean that Zayn isn’t going to tolerate any of Louis’ bullshit. He’s given it to him enough times over the last several months when Louis was going to do something particularly stupid, just not the dumbest thing he’s done since he’s known him since the accident. 

Zayn releases a heavy, heavy sigh and Louis’ forces the words out of his mouth to keep Zayn from kicking him out. 

“Do you remember the story I told you about what happened in the locker room? The one where you, um, let everyone in the entire school see me naked and take pictures?” Louis says, figuring he should start from the beginning of things, the place his terrible, terrible idea started. 

Zayn looks at him for a minute, his eye slightly squinted as he thinks. “Yeah, I remember it.” 

“It’s start there, really. We grew up together and had barely spoken to each other, and then, one day, you decided that I was going to be a pawn in your little game. I’m still not completely sure why it happened, or what your reasoning was, but it made my life a living hell. That day haunted me until graduation. I went from being the kid who was forced to work to help his mother, the kid who wore secondhand clothes and the one with holes in his shoes half the time. And of course, I was one of the only people in the school that was gay, or at least the only one that was out.

“I had a lot of things going for me that people could have picked on, but I was relatively invisible until the day you decided to target me. I still don’t understand why you did it, but I don’t really care anymore. It was stupid of me to hold onto something like that, especially when so many great things have happened to me in my life. You’ve met three of them,” he says, smiling. 

Zayn looks at him, one eyebrow raised as he stares intently at Louis. “A stupid prank of a child, in your mind, deserves to be avenged in a manner where you fabricate a lie about an entire life, telling him that you’re married, he’s a father, and manipulating everything to play into your father because you were upset about something that happened years ago, yeah?” 

“I did, in the beginning, believe that, but not anymore,” Louis says. “And I don’t know why I did it, because, for some reason, I never fully imagined what it would be like if you got your memory back or if the truth was revealed. At some point, it stopped being a lie. At some point, you belonged with us.” 

“No I don’t,” Zayn says, laughing a hollow, bitter laugh. “If I was meant to be in your life I would have tried to contact you after high school, don’t you think?” 

“I don’t know what I think anymore,” Louis says, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. “I might have agreed with you months ago, before I got to properly know you, but not now. After Eleanor left, I wasn’t sure if my family was ever going to be just my boys and me. I thought that it would be me until all three of them were off living their lives, and then I’d be at home, and maybe that’s why I did it. 

“I saw you on the television at work, decided to go and see you, and then, when I learned you had no memory, I came up with the lie. I could have easily corrected the nurse and said I was just a concerned friend, but I didn’t. They thought I was your husband, and somewhere, deep inside of me, I think that I wanted someone. Maybe I wanted someone so I wouldn’t have to be alone, I don’t know. But you were there, and you were lying in a hospital bed and some woman had just introduced me as your husband, and at the time, it seemed like a good idea. I can’t say what I was thinking, but apart of me believes it was for the best that I did, it. I mean, Zayn, look a this, you’re living alone in a small apartment,” Louis says, immediately tucking his lips into his mouth to stop himself from saying anything else, worried that he might have crossed a line with that last bit. 

“What’s wrong with my apartment? What’s wrong with my life? And before you answer, let me just remind you that you know nothing about it, besides what happened until you went off to college. So enlighten me, Louis, what’s so wrong about how I’m living, or rather your perception of how I’m living?” Zayn questions, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. He looks irritated, more so than he has the entire time since he saw Louis sitting on his couch a short while ago. 

“I didn’t mean to insult you. And you’re right; I don’t know what’s going on in your life. I really don’t, but I do know that it’s different from what you had with me.”

“If you’re referring to the fact that I’m not living with someone who is lying to me, then you should take assurance in the fact that this is how I prefer to live. Yeah, I live on my own, but it’s better than living in made up family and world built on lies,” Zayn says, unfolding his arms and resting them on the table. 

“It’s quiet,” Louis says, ignoring the challenge he heard in Zayn’s voice, the one that was practically begging him to cross the line inside his head. Louis has no idea where he’s standing, but he presses on, refusing to be deferred until Zayn kicks him out. “There’s nothing wrong with your apartment, it’s just different. There’s no toys scattered across the floor, there’s no music or movies in the background overshadowed by little voices and laughter. There’s nothing wrong with how your living, but I introduced you to something different. Neither life is better than the other; it’s not a competition between the two of them. They’re just different, that’s all. You know two lives, Zayn, maybe even three. You had your life before the accident, you had your life with me, and you have your life now.” 

“One of those lives was a lie,” Zayn says. “I’ve experienced the truth and a lie.” 

“I will never be able to say this enough, but what happened between us started out a lie, and it was built on a lie, but I know that somewhere inside of you that you understand there was a shift between us somewhere in the middle, one that turned into something real. And I’ll never be able to say this enough, but my feelings for you, the ones I have now, the ones I had since the first time we kissed are real. I don’t know how else to say it,” Louis says, because he’s willing to repeat this part of the conversation a million different times to get Zayn to understand. 

“If you had real feelings for me, why didn’t you just tell me? Why did you have to keep it hidden for so long?” Zayn questions. 

“I tried to tell you,” Louis says, his voice getting obnoxiously high. “I tried to tell you at least three different times, and I know that number isn’t very large, but I tried. Every single time you stopped me. One time it was my fault; the night that I said I loved you. It’s like I couldn’t tell you, because how do you tell someone that you’re not really married and your kids are their kids? When you asked how I knew that I fell in love with you, that was true, the whole story. 

“I was going to tell you that night you and the kids made that dinner with the hearts and the flowers from Mrs. Hamilton’s yard, but you wouldn’t let me talk, and then it was like, we’re lying in bed and I couldn’t. I didn’t want my life with you to end,” Louis says, smiling sadly. He can feel something wrapping itself around his heart and squeezing while pressing down, a deep pressure of an ache that makes him want to cry, right here in Zayn’s tiny apartment. “I swear that I tried.” 

Zayn takes a deep breath and stares at Louis for a moment, folding his arms over his chest again. “You had sex with me instead of telling me the truth?” 

“It’s not like that, Zayn. The physical part of our relationship was the real part of our relationship. I didn’t kiss you until I felt something for you. I didn’t want to kiss you, but then… It was like I couldn’t stop, and then having sex with you… Why do you think I kept asking you not to regret it?”

“Oh yeah, because this is entirely my fault for not understanding what was happening,” Zayn says, rolling his eyes. 

“I’m not blaming you,” Louis cries, groaning and rubbing his hand across his face. “I told you the first time we had sex that I was worried about you hating me and this is why. I begged you to promise that you wouldn’t forget it’s what you wanted.” 

“I wanted to have sex with someone I thought I was married to, not someone who lies.”

Louis stares at Zayn, the sadness etched on his face. He feels a quiet sort of desperation rolling throughout his body; the desire to get Zayn to understand the truth is overwhelming him. He feels like he’s exhausted all of his words and he doesn't have anything left. All he has are his feelings and the love he feels for Zayn, but he doesn’t believe it’s enough anymore. He’s hurt Zayn, he’s betrayed him, and every second chance he could have gotten has been thrown out the window. But he’s willing to fight for another chance, even if he doesn’t deserve one, even if he feels like there isn’t much of a point any longer. He feels tired, and drained, because he doesn’t really have anything else to give to Zayn. And just as he’s getting ready to say maybe it’s time for him to leave, even though he has ten minutes left, Zayn decides to speak up. 

“Whose Eleanor?” Zayn asks, and Louis stills, his body going slightly rigid as Zayn looks at him intently. “Earlier you said ‘after Eleanor left’, so who is Eleanor? Why’d she leave?” 

Apart of Louis, a small, absolutely minuscule, damaged part of Louis wants to say it’s not important and it doesn’t matter, but he promised honesty, and hiding the details about Eleanor is the same thing as lying, and that’s a path he doesn’t want to go down any more, not with Zayn. 

“Eleanor is my kid’s mother. Their actual birth mother, not, uh-“ 

“Not one you brought home from the hospital,” Zayn finishes for him, shaking his head. “How did you hide me from her for so long? Wouldn’t a mother want to see her kids? How the hell did you hide her from me? I was always home.” 

Louis laughs bitterly, shaking his head. “Most mothers want to see their children, Zayn, but not all of them. Eleanor hasn’t seen them for two years, and it’s not by decision of the courts, or not by my own decision. It was hers. She packed her bags one day and watched out of the door, four broken hearts in her wake. I didn’t hide you from anyone, Zayn.” 

“Why would she leave?” Zayn asks, and Louis releases a deep breath. 

“We met at university, and after a lifetime of thinking boys were it for me, I found a girl who could have been it for me. And then we had Niall, unplanned, of course, and it became less about school and more about finding jobs so we could support him. She had been trying for night classes, wanted to finish her education and then we were going to focus on a family. I was working two jobs to support us, but then, five years after Niall was born, and almost ten months after a night of fighting and making up, Harry was born. His birth pretty much sealed the deal that she wouldn’t be going back to school and a year later Liam was born. 

“It was hard for her, having to realize that her dreams were being pushed back due to our family, and she became resentful of me,” Louis explains, casting his eyes away from Zayn to look at the table. “I know that I’m the reason she left, and I know, looking back on it, that there was never going to be anything I could do to make her stay. I don’t know where she is, I don’t know what she’s doing, for all I know, she’s living her dream and she has a new family, and that’s fine, because my kids deserve someone who wants to be around them. I never fought to get her back, I didn’t. I think that I’ve always known that we were only together for Niall, and then it turned into for Niall and Harry, and then for Niall, Harry and Liam, but never for each other. I never tried to fight for her, but I can’t do with you, because not fighting for you would be a mistake. I just can’t. I know you hate me, and I know you’re angry, and upset, but I really, really need you to understand that somewhere the lines blurred, and it was no longer a lie, but me desperately holding onto the life I wish I had with you.” 

“Maybe you just needed someone to mend your broken heart. Maybe it would have been anyone in my position, what makes you so sure that you want a life with me?” Zayn asks, looking at him thoughtfully. 

“It’s just—I just know. It’s you. I’m over Eleanor, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt to know that someone who is supposed to love my children unconditionally, their own mother at that, didn’t want to have them in their lives anymore. Everything I feel for Eleanor starts and stops with my children. I don’t love her, I don’t want anything to do with her, but without her I wouldn’t have them, and having them is far greater than having her. So no, you weren’t some desperate ploy of mine to get over her,” Louis says, firm and true. 

“After everything that’s happened, I’m not sure I can believe you. Maybe you’re sorry; maybe you just want someone in your life. And that’s fine, but it should be someone that you haven’t lied to,” Zayn says. “Maybe I’m not meant to be in your life.”

“I’m glad I did it, Zayn. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry that I lied to you, and dragged an elaborate lie out for so long. I’m truly sorry in every sense of the word, because I started out wanting to hurt you, and to make you feel the same way I did back in high school. I was trying to avenge a much younger version of myself, stupidly thinking that it might fix all the things wrong with my life. Like, if I made someone else hurt, then maybe it wouldn’t be hurting for once, it might restore some balance into my life. I thought hurting you would make me happy, and it could make my life better, and it’s by far the dumbest thing anyone has ever done,” Louis says, shaking his head as he realizes, once again, how much of an idiot he is. 

“Hurting you didn’t bring me happiness. It hurt, it hurt a lot more than I ever thought possible. So I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for lying to you, and I’m sorry that you’re feeling used and betrayed, and everything else, but I can’t bring myself to be sorry that it happened, because without it, I wouldn’t know what life is like with you in it, and that’s something I never want to lose, but it’s not up to me. It’s up to you, and I hope, maybe not now, but one day you can find it in yourself to forgive me, because I love you, and my feelings for you are real, and I can say, with everything in me that those were real. There was no fabrication or faking it from my end. I love you, and maybe I shouldn’t say it, but you need to know it, because it’s true. I love you, and my kids love you, all three of them,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders, because that’s all he’s got. He’s not sure what else he can say to let Zayn know how he’s feeling or what is going on inside of his head. He has no other means of correcting the situation besides hoping and praying that Zayn can recognize what where the truth was in his lies. 

“Your times up,” Zayn says, tapping on his wrist. He looks at Louis, his emotions carefully masked and Louis has no fucking idea what he’s thinking, but he swallows thickly and nods his head while he stands up from the table, fumbling around and smoothing down his shirt. “I trust you remember the way out?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Louis says, nodding his head. “Um. I don’t—Uh, listen, I booked a room at the hotel, uh, I think on Hill Avenue. I wasn’t sure how today would go, and I don’t feel like driving again, so if you decide you want to talk to me, that’s where I’ll be. I’m in room 523, if you call the hotel, tell them you’re look for me. Or you can call my cell, anything.” Louis recognizes that he sounds desperate, but he’s getting ready to leave with no idea where he stands with Zayn anymore. And a part of him doesn’t want to leave, not with Zayn staring intently at the wall opposite them, and knowing the only emotion he’s shown today is anger, which Louis expected, but he also expected something else. Something, but he’s not exactly sure what. 

Louis stalls making his way to the door, so Zayn stands up from the table, striding across his apartment and pulls the door open. Louis takes the cue and exits, hoping that his words have sunk into Zayn’s mind.


	34. Chapter 34

Louis’ hotel room is small, with minimal furniture; a dresser that doubles as a desk to hold the television, and a double bed placed in the center of the room with an end table on each side. The comforter is green and covered in white flowers; it’s itchy against his back as he aimlessly flips through television channels hoping to clear his mind up. He could have gone home, mulled over what happened in the car as he drove himself back to his family, but he knows that he’s seen Zayn, he made the right decision in choosing a hotel for the night. He doesn’t want to have the stress of worrying about what Zayn is feeling plaguing his mind while he tries to act like everything is okay for his children, one of whom is still not speaking to him. 

Louis, above everything else, hopes that Zayn can find it in him to forgive what happened, even if only slightly, and to come back home with him. Not only for himself, but also for the three little boys waiting for him at Nick’s apartment, the three little boys that were crushed when Zayn walked out of their lives. Harry and Liam are acclimating to life without Zayn fairly well, better than Niall is, and Louis knows that he’s to blame for it. Louis is the problem, and he hopes that he found a solution by taking Nick’s advice and talking to Zayn. 

At the thought of Nick, Louis pulls out his phone, wanting to talk to someone about what happened with Zayn. He dials Nick’s number, craning his neck to the side to check the time. It’s a little after seven, late enough that his kids should be finishing dinner. 

Nick answers the call with a strained, “hello?” 

“Everything all right?” Louis asks, laughing lightly as he hears Harry shouting in the background. 

“Oh lovely,” Nick says, followed by a quiet, “Harry, and his fifteen personalities are hanging from my leg.” Nick groans, the noise followed by an exasperated sigh, and then, “Harry, if I promise everyone cookies will you please go and watch that movie with Liam?” 

“Of course, Uncle Nick,” Louis hears Harry say, his voice high and sweet. 

It’s quiet for a moment until he hears Nick grown in the phone. “Your children are out of control. I have ten children in my apartment; it’s not suited for this kind of lifestyle. I’m sorry, but it’s not.” 

“I only have three,” Louis corrects automatically, grateful for the sense of normalcy, like nothing is wrong. 

“Physically, yes. Physically there are three bodies in this house, but that doesn’t mean there are not little bodies crammed inside of them, causing havoc. I’d say Harry’s about seven bodies, Niall is two, and Liam is one. Liam should be two though, because one minute he’s happy and the next, he’s crying and trying to burrow himself behind my bookcase.” 

“You made him cry?” Louis asks, muting the television and sitting up straighter. “Nick, what happened?” 

“I walked into the room,” Nick cries. “I was helping Niall reach a cup in the kitchen, then I walked back into the living room, and Harry and Liam are bouncing around on my couch, jumping up and down like little animals. Liam takes one at me, drops down onto his butt and starts crying. We went to the store for chocolate milk so I could get him to stop.” 

“He was afraid that he was in trouble,” Louis sighs, his shoulders sagging in relief that it wasn’t anything serious. “He knows that he’s not allowed to jump on the furniture.” 

“Well, I’m glad one of them knows,” Nick mumbles. 

“Harry knows, but you’re not exactly telling him to stop, so he thinks he can get away with it,” Louis says, scratching at the blanket underneath him. He hears Nick sigh into the phone, and leans back against the pillows, waiting. 

“You didn’t call to talk about your kids, did you?” 

“Well, not really, but I had intentions of asking about them,” Louis says, sinking back into the bed. 

“How’d things go with the runaway wife?” Nick asks. “Do you think he liked what you had to say?” 

“No, not really, but you can’t exactly blame him. He listened to me, and he didn’t throw me out of his apartment, so that’s better than I expected. I ran into his friend in the hallway, some girl that doubled as a guard dog. I think she was going to attack me before he could even know that I was there if I didn’t give her a good reason. She’s the one who let me into his apartment,” Louis explains. 

“I guess you owe her everything then,” Nick says, yawning into the phone. 

“I told him everything that I could. I probably left out so much,” Louis groans. “I thought that I knew what I wanted to say until I saw him, then I just wanted to throw myself on the ground and beg for forgiveness until he understood how sorry I was, or until he took pity on me. I didn’t though, and I’m not sure it made much of a difference.” 

“Maybe,” Nick says, and Louis imagines that he’s shrugging his shoulders. “At the end of the day, you tried. You apologized, as you should have, and that’s all you needed to do. What Zayn chooses to do with that is out of your control. He’s under no obligations to forgive you, but with all forgiveness, it takes time. He needs time, Louis.” 

“I know that he does, Nick, but what if he doesn’t forgive me? How am I ever going to get Niall to forgive me? It’s affected all of them, but Niall especially, and I don’t know to do anymore,” Louis says. “This would have never happened if I didn’t go along with that stupid nurse.” 

“You’re right, but would your life be any better if you hadn’t have brought Zayn home that day?” 

“My children wouldn’t have had their hearts broken, and one of them wouldn’t hate me,” Louis states. 

“You wouldn’t have fallen in love, and your kids wouldn’t have gotten the second parent that they deserve,” Nick counters. 

“Touché,” Louis says, laughing bitterly. “I’d say that you won that argument.” 

“I don’t know what happened today with Zayn, and I don’t know what you said exactly or how he reacted to them. I can’t speculate on what he’s thinking or what he’s going through. I don’t even know what you’re thinking or what you’re going through, but I know that everything happens for a reason. You brought Zayn home for a reason, and not just that bullshit one about wanting to avenge your sixteen, or however old, self. Zayn believed it, and stayed for a reason. He found out for a reason, and things will play out how they’re supposed to for a reason, and you can’t control things Louis.” 

Louis takes a deep breath, nodding his head because he knows that Nick is right, of course he is. “That doesn’t make it any easier on me, Nick,” Louis sighs.

“Louis, you decided against his will that he was going to be a part of your life. Now it’s his turn to decide if he’s going to stay in it. He deserves a say in it somehow.” 

“I know, and I’ll learn to live with whatever decision he makes,” Louis says, pausing to take a deep breath, “but the wait to know what he chooses is going to be rough.” 

“How about you to talk to kids to speed up the process. I’m sure they’d love to hear from you.” 

“Yeah, put one of them on,” Louis says, listening to the changing sounds in the background as Nick changes locations, branching off to find one of Louis’ children. He can hear Nick talking to someone, telling them that they need to talk into the phone, and it’s quiet for a moment before he hears Liam’s quiet voice saying, “hi.” 

“Liam, hi,” Louis says, smiling at the sound of his son’s voice. 

“Who’s this?” Liam asks. 

“It’s Daddy,” Louis replies, laughing lightly. 

“Where you at?” 

Louis bites his lip, wondering what lie he’s going to come up to tell his children. He can’t remember what he said while he was packing their bags, if he said anything at all, because his mind was on an auto-piloted loop of what he was going to tell Zayn over what he was going to tell his children about his location. It’s not like he wants to lie, but he can’t tell his kids that he went to see Zayn, so he tells him the closest to the truth as he can. “Daddy had to go see someone. I’ll be home tomorrow, hopefully.” 

“Daddy, um, I tired,” Liam says, quickly followed by, “hi, Harry.” 

Louis frowns in confusion until he hears Harry’s loud voice in the background saying, “Liam, I want to talk to Daddy.” 

“Okay,” Liam replies to his brother, and without saying good-bye, Louis hears shuffling in his ears. 

The noise stopping when he hears, “Hi Daddy, it’s Harry.” 

“Hi, Harry,” Louis says, lying down on the bed, his arm folded over his eyes as he blocks out everything but the sound of his son talking in his ear. 

“Daddy, Uncle Nick gave me a cookie, and earlier, he bought us chocolate milk. And Liam cried three times. I helped him be a big boy, and I helped him with cuddles. Uncle Nick didn’t do the cuddles, even when I said to do them,” Harry sighs, letting out a frustrated breath. “Niall did one cuddle, but I did three.” 

“Well, thank you for making your little brother feel better. I bet he liked that,” Louis says. 

“He said thank you,” Harry states, no doubt nodding his head vigorously. “Daddy, when are you coming home? Uncle Nick’s very nice, but I miss you, lots.” 

“I miss you too, and I’ll be home tomorrow,” Louis replies easily, grateful that conversation with his son is simple enough that it takes his mind away from the complicated issues of his life, the ones that affect his three children as well.

“Daddy, Niall’s crying,” Harry says, and pulls his arm away from his face and stares up at the ceiling. 

“Is he okay?” 

“Dad?” It’s Niall’s voice in the phone, and Louis sits up, eyes going wide. It had just been Harry’s voice in his ear, and then, within a second, the voice was replaced with one he hasn’t heard directed towards him in weeks. A voice he didn’t realize how badly he was missing until this moment, as the tightening around his chest eases up, and he’s releasing a deep sigh of relief. 

“Hey, I was talking to him,” he hears Harry say in the background. 

“Dad, are you coming home?” 

“Niall, of cour-“ 

“I’m really sorry for being mad at you, and for not talking to you because I was mad. I didn’t mean to be angry and mean. I’m sorry,” Niall cries, a hiccupping sob escaping his throat as he talks. “I was sad because Poppy left, and I’m not sad anymore, because I don’t even like him. I don’t. Are you leaving, too?” 

“Niall, no, calm down. Please, calm down,” Louis says, feeling his chest tightening again. 

“I don’t know how,” Niall cries into the phone, shaky breaths and rattling sobs right into Louis’ ear. 

“Take a deep breath for me, okay? I’m coming home tomorrow. I’m not leaving, and I’m coming home, okay? So you don’t need to worry about that. I promise,” Louis says. 

“Poppy promised that he wouldn’t leave,” Niall reminds him, and Louis wraps his fingers tightly around a bit of the blanket, nodding his head despite the fact that Niall can’t see it. 

“Niall, I had something very important that I had to take care of, which is why you’re with Uncle Nick right now. I know that people keep breaking promises and that you don’t trust them, but I’m going to be home tomorrow. Nothing will keep me away, you have to trust me, even if it feels difficult, okay?”

It’s silent for a moment, the sounds of Niall’s shaky cries the only thing Louis can hear as Niall tries to calm himself down. “If you’re not home tomorrow, can we come find you?”

“Yes,” Louis laughs, shaking his head. “I’ll text Uncle Nick the address of my hotel, and if you don’t see me tomorrow by dinner time, you’re free to hunt me down. And then we’ll have ice cream every night for a week. You can have as much chocolate sauce and sprinkles as you want, I won’t tell you that you’ve had enough.”

“Well, that’ll be nice,” Niall says. “Can we have ice cream if you come back anyway? Uncle Nick only has stale cookies. Harry really likes them, but they’re the same kind grandma likes to eat. I don’t want to eat old lady cookies.”

“Ice cream no matter what, good idea,” Louis agrees. “Now, tell me what else has been going on. Harry only mentioned cuddles, and Liam said he was tired. I bet you’ll tell me everything.” 

Niall does, he tells Louis every detail. He starts with what happened to him at school, and then every painstaking detail of their stay with Nick, starting with him almost forgetting to pick Liam up and playing it off as a joke, even though Niall claims it was probably not a joke. He tells him everything, and Louis listens, smiling at the conversation, one so different from the one he had earlier in the day. 

Twenty minutes later, Louis and Niall say their good byes, Louis promising once more that he’ll be home tomorrow. He hangs up the phone and drops back down onto the mattress, closing his eyes and release a deep breath. He focuses on his breathing and unclenching the hand wrapped around the phone. He’s half tempted to grabbing his back and checking out right now, but something, some kind of pull deep inside of him is tying him to this place. He doesn’t want to leave without hearing something from Zayn, even if it’s a ‘fuck you’. He can’t go home without some kind of knowledge on how he’s going to move forward with his life. 

And also, selfishly, Louis wants a night alone to bask in his own misery of how royally he’s fucked up his own life with one complicated, twisted lie. Everyone has had a moment for their own personal crying session, and Louis, above everything else, needs to get his emotions out and to let himself feel something other than the uncomfortable numbing ache that’s been radiating throughout his body since the day Zayn left. 

Louis needs time to himself, and he needs a night, one night, to nurse his emotional cuts and bruises, so he takes it. He’s turned on trash television and crawls underneath the scratchy hotel blanket, and binge eats the rotten food from the vending machine. 

~~~ 

In the morning, Louis wakes up to his phone vibrating against his back where he fell asleep on top of it. He rolls over easily, reaching for it blindly and pressing it against his ear. 

“Hello?” He croaks out, expecting to hear from Nick, or one of his children, but he nearly falls off the bed when he hears that it’s Zayn. 

“I figure that I have a few things to say to you, so, um, if you’re still in town, and you want to hear it, come over to my place around lunchtime,” Zayn says, and Louis doesn’t agree quick enough before they’re hanging up and he’s rushing around his hotel room to get ready.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for discussions of homophobia. It's brief, and it's mentioned as happening in the past, and not discussed in detail.

Zayn hangs up the phone, setting it down carefully on the mount on the table before he releases a deep breath. It was Leigh-Anne’s idea to invite Louis back over to his place, and he turns around to glare at her from her place on the couch once again. He had been furious with her after Louis left the night before, calling her and demanding that she come back over to his place. He’s be angrier than expected, but not because she allowed Louis into his place, but because she was right about knowing that he needed to hear what Louis had to say. 

A part of him, a section that he’s not sure the size of, hates Louis for bringing him into his life and forcing him to know a world that he’s never known before. Another part of him, a smaller part, is grateful for being taken out of the hospital so he wasn’t forced to spend nearly a year in a hospital or some kind of rehabilitation facility. Grateful or not, it doesn’t change the lie and the betrayal and the deception that took place between them. He’d have been grateful if Louis hadn’t have made him believe that he was a father with three children. He’d have been understanding if Louis would have taken him in under the pretense of wanting to help him get his memory back, but that’s not what Louis had wanted to do. 

Zayn’s still not sure of the reasons and whether he believes them or not, but he had to listen to Louis. He owed himself that much, and that’s one of the only reasons that is stopping him from being completely and utterly pissed off with Leigh-Anne. 

“I’m guessing he agreed to come over,” she says, smiling brightly at Zayn. 

Zayn rolls his eyes and sits down on the couch next to her, leaning his head back against the cushion. “Why are you smiling about this?” He asks, her shining white teeth beginning to annoy him. 

“I just want you to be happy, baby, and I don’t know what you’re planning to say to Louis, but I know that you need this, and I’m glad that you’re recognizing that as well,” she says, turning towards him and folding her legs underneath her body. “Do you know what you want to say to him?” 

“I’m going to tell him everything that he said to me, but I’m going to tell it in my point of view. Everyone seems to think that only Louis’ version is the one that matters. I remember growing up, I remember flashes of him in high school, and I was living in the lie that took place inside of his house. There are two sides to every story, and his side isn’t the only one that deserves to be told.” 

“No one thinks that. I listened to your story, and Louis probably never thought that you were going to tell him anything.” 

“I didn’t until after he left,” Zayn says, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t want this to end without Louis knowing the things that I have to say.” 

“And what is it that you want to say to him?” Leigh asks, looking at him expectantly. 

“I have no idea,” Zayn says, biting his lip. 

“Well, I guess that means I better get out of here so you can think, because I bet your ex-husband is rushing his poor butt to get ready,” she says, swinging her legs onto the ground and rising, patting Zayn on the thigh as she grabs her purse. “Promise to call me when you meltdown after he leaves?”

Zayn laughs, nodding his head and waving as she disappears out of sight. He drops his face down to shove his face into the couch cushions, groaning as he scrambles to get his mind together. 

~~~ 

Just like Leigh-Anne predicated, Louis is ringing Zayn’s buzzer thirty minutes after the phone call. Zayn buzzes him up, once for the gate and another for the front door. Zayn is waiting for him with his apartment door open, watching as Louis climbs the stairs and turns to look at him with a hesitant smile. 

Wordlessly, Zayn pulls the door open wider, allowing Louis entrance into his tiny little home. He closes the door silently, taking a deep breath before he turns around to see Louis staring at him awkwardly. 

“Should I sit down at the table again?” Louis asks, pointing over towards the table behind him, the one they sat at when he was here the other day. 

Zayn shrugs his shoulders, because it doesn’t really matter to him if they’re sitting or standing, but the couch is too intimate and he’s not going to invite Louis into his bedroom so he ends up nodding his head, pointing towards the table. It feels more awkward than it did the other day, possibly because it’s a planned visit and this time Zayn has something that he wants to say instead of telling Louis to get out. 

It’s all a little confusing, if Zayn’s being honest with himself. 

He takes the seat across from Louis, the situation feeling oddly intimate, like two people getting together for lunch instead of two people meeting to talk about deceiving lies and their interconnecting life stories from the others point of view. 

“Just to let you know, and not trying to rush you,” Louis says, holding his hands up in defense. “I have to leave in about, um, six hours. I promised the boys that I’d be home by dinner, and I’d like to keep that promise to them, if that’s all right by you.” 

Zayn ignores the way that Louis talks about his kids, almost like they’re still entities that are shared by Louis and Zayn. He doesn’t want to correct him and say your boys, because he might just be overreacting, and it’s not the point of why he wanted Louis over here today. “This isn’t going to take six hours,” Zayn says, raising an eyebrow at Louis. “That’s a bit extreme.” 

“Well,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders and shifting around uncomfortably in his chair. “I wasn’t really sure how long it would take, so I thought that I’d throw it out there. I mean, you didn’t really say much about what you wanted to tell me, just that you had a few things you wanted to say.”

“I do have some things that we should discuss. I was pretty angry when I spoke to you yesterday, and I needed time to process the information, because you threw a lot of shit at me,” Zayn states, grabbing onto his knees underneath the table. 

“It was all the truth,” Louis informs him, nodding his head. 

Zayn looks at him for a moment before he goes on, shaking his head for the briefest of seconds. “Anyway, I needed to take what you said to me and to think about it, and a day really isn’t enough time to do that, but it made me realize that this entire time it’s been about you sharing your side of things, and never about me, and never about what I might have to say to you, because you’re not the one who was lied to, Louis. That was me. I was the one robbed of my memory, and I was the one being fed a life that didn’t belong to me. You have every right to want to tell me your side of what happened and why you did it, you do, but your voice isn’t the only one that should be shared.”

“Okay,” Louis says, nodding carefully. “I’d have listened, just so you know, and I’m here now, and I’m willing to listen to anything that you have to say to me, so if that’s why I’m here, then by all means, please start talking. You’ve been a big fat mystery to me my entire life, and I’d love to figure you out, Zayn.”

Zayn takes a deep breath, nodding his head, because for some reason he thought that talking to Louis would be more difficult, like Louis would try and argue about Zayn getting a say in anything. Thinking it, Zayn knows that it’s not true, but he really doesn’t know what to expect anymore. 

“I remember you, growing up I mean. I remember the things that you told me about, like with the comic book and stuff like that. But I remember you, and the way that you dressed and had to do errands for everyone around town. I remember watching you through my window as you cut my grass and the way my friends made fun of you for it, and I never really understood it, but I never did anything to stop it,” Zayn explains, his fingers still gripping onto his thighs as he tries to explain this properly. 

“It’s not really relevant, but I remember you. And for you, it all starts the day that I, um, let everyone mock your naked body, but there’s a lot more to what happened in our childhood. Like, when I questioned someone on why they hated you, and they, well, I’m not going to repeat what they called you, because it’s disgusting and it’s not important, and I guess if you want to look at the grand picture, I’m one of those words as well now, I guess. 

“But anyway,” Zayn says, pausing to take a deep breath, because he feels like he’s forgetting to breathe. It’s like he’s opening this huge box, a holder of his memories and exposing him to someone that’s hurt him, and a part of him wants to dive into survival mode and shut up, because Louis could hurt him again with this information, but he needs to keep going, so he does. “I had never really thought about sexuality until that moment, and then it was kind of like the gates had been opened inside of my mind, because there’s a term to go along with why I like to stare at boys, and why I’d imagine this kid from my math class when I was wanking off in my bathroom, pretending to shower so my parents wouldn’t hear me.” 

Louis snorts at that, covering his mouth up immediately with his hand. “Sorry. I’m not laughing at anything other than the memory of me having to do the same thing, it’s… Sorry. Continue.” 

Zayn nods his head. “It’s all right to laugh, it was probably one of the most embarrassing things that I’ve ever done. But anyway, hearing that you were gay, I finally figured out that was definitely something that pertained to me as well, and then the knowledge that I have a deeply religious family, and a school full of children who hate you because of your sexuality, it made me nervous and scared. I was terrified, until one day, I decided to test my theory with another kid involved in sports. I can’t remember his name, I just remember that he tasted like sweat and smelled like dirt, but it was better than any kiss that I shared with any girl.” 

“Why were you so angry when I saw you kissing him?” Louis asks, studying Zayn carefully. 

Zayn shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t want you to tell anyone what you saw, and I became obsessed that you were going to tell people. I made plans to corner you and threaten you, but then I was worried that wouldn’t work, because what’s a threat? I thought about just trusting you to keep quiet, but then I thought, if someone makes fun of you again for being gay, how can I stop you from saying that you’re not alone. I became angry with you,” Zayn says, remembering the fear he felt about the situation as a teenager. “I began to resent you, and it took over me. I did what I did to you, because I wanted to make sure that no one would ever believe you if you tried to talk. And I’m sorry for doing that; it was really fucked up of me. I wanted to apologize sooner, but I figured it was water under the bridge. I didn’t think you’d be angry enough to make me your pretend husband as an act of revenge.” 

“I had forgotten about it until I saw you on television. I don’t think they’re supposed to tell people who they have in the hospital, but they were desperate, and when I saw you, it kind of brought those old feelings back up. It was childish of me to react the way I did, and there were so many other ways that I could have helped you in the hospital without the lie, but I can’t find myself to be sorry about that. I know I said it before, but I’m happy that became apart of my family, even if just for a little while,” Louis says, and Zayn blanks, staring up at Louis before he nods his head. He doesn’t actually forgive Louis, but now that he’s talking about what he did to Louis, he can understand the white-hot anger and the way it takes over your mind and convinces you that horrible ideas are good ones. 

“I came out in college,” Zayn says, choosing to ignore Louis’ statement. “And that’s when my family cut ties with me, and everything seemed to go downhill. I was alone and scared, I was ashamed of who I was because I lost everyone, so I started dating Leigh-Anne.” 

“The girl from the other day?”

“Yeah, we were engaged, but somewhere between getting ready to walk down the aisle, and my family deciding that they liked me again, I realized that I couldn’t live in a lie to make others happy. I came out again, and since then I’ve been alone, until you took me in your house,” Zayn finishes, realizing that his palms are sweating. 

“I’m sorry,” Louis says, looking at Zayn sadly. “I never thought that your life might not have been the greatest, which is stupid of me, because everyone has their own struggles so to think that I was alone in suffering during high school was selfish and immature, and I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” Zayn says. “And it should be known that I accept your apology but I’m not fully open and ready for dealing with what it means to allow you forgiveness. I’m forgiving you for myself, because I need to move on from this.”

“Move on from this?” Louis asks, looking at Zayn with his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Both of our lives need to move forward. I was talking to Leigh and she was saying that even if I’m still hurt by what happened, it’s never going to get better if I don’t accept it, and find my own ways to move on from it besides being angry all the time,” Zayn explains. 

“So now what do we do?” Louis asks, biting his lip as he looks at Zayn. And Zayn knows what he’s asking, he’s asking, in an indirect, round about kind of way if there is any hope of them going back to the way that they were before, or if everything really is over. Zayn takes a deep breath, because this is the part of the conversation that he doesn’t think either of them is really prepared for. 

“We go back to living our lives. You’re going to go home to your children and I’m going to figure out how to get my shit together, because I already told you before, I can’t live my life trying to make others happy, I need to make myself happy. And you need to get home to your kids,” Zayn says, casting his eyes down at the table.

“Zayn,” Louis says, his voice quiet and broken. 

“I can’t keep living a lie. My entire life has been one, lying about being straight when I was younger, lying about wanting to marry Leigh-Anne, lying about being your husband and your kids father. I don’t want that life anymore, I just want to find something that’s true, and something that makes me happy, because it’s been a long time since I’ve had that,” Zayn explains. “Eventually things will go back to being the same as they were before.”

“That’s bullshit,” Louis says, an angry bite to his tone. “It’s already not the same without you at our house. Niall’s not the same without you. Harry’s not the same without you. Liam’s not the same without you. Our family isn’t the same without you; it’s not going to be the same without you. And I think, deep down, you know that you’re not going to be the same without us.”

“I’m not going to be the same without living a lie? I’d hope so,” Zayn retorts, rolling his eyes at Louis and his outburst. 

“Every single person in this world is stuck in their lives, stuck this little bubble of a world that they’re born into, but you, Zayn… You’ve branched off into different things. You lived your life closeted, you lived your life in the open, being who you are and doing what you wanted, but then, you got to experience life as a husband and a father, and sure it was built on some bullshit lie, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re at a point where you’re allowed to choose between the two worlds that you know. You can lie to me, Zayn, but I know that your life will never be the same, because you’re always going to think back on your time with us and wonder if you’re making the right choice right now,” Louis says, huffing out a breath. 

“You lied to me, Louis. Why would I want to go back to that? You’re a vengeful, immature, manipulative liar and you don’t get to tell me how I’m going to live my life,” Zayn grits out, glaring at Louis. 

“I’m telling you how to live your life, Zayn,” Louis says, releasing a deep breath. Zayn watches as he deflates, shaking his head sadly. “I always thought that I had it all together. I thought I had found every missing piece of me that I would ever need in my life, but then you came around, and yeah, I did want to get back at you over some petty high school bullshit. I am so incredibly sorry about that. You didn’t deserve that. I’ve gotten to know you and my kids have gotten to know you and you’re beautiful. You glow. Everything about you permeates through the air and it’s seeped into my skin and wrapped itself around my heart. I can’t be without you. My kids can’t be without you. I thought I had everything but without you I realize that I only have three pieces of my heart because you’re the fourth and as horrible as I was to you I need you to come back. You’re what our lives have been missing, not some absent mother, but you. We need you. I need you. And I know that somewhere inside of you, you need us.”

Zayn shakes his head. “You’re wrong, you know? I’ve forgiven you, and I’m going to work past this and I’m going to get over you and your family. You barely know me, you know the Zayn that you created in your lie.”

Louis nods. “I understand, but you should know that I’m so sorry and if you don't want to hear from me again, then you won’t. I promise that I’ll leave you alone. Forever, if that’s what you want, but I love you and I just want you to know that.” 

Louis looks sad, and it crawls underneath Zayn’s skin and makes him want to scream because Louis caused this, he has no right to be upset at Zayn for his decision. He has no right to want to lash out and try to fight Zayn on what his decision is. 

“Maybe it’s time I went home,” Louis says, standing up slowly from his chair. 

Zayn nods his head and follows, walking closely behind Louis towards his front door. Louis pulls it open and stands there for a moment, taking a deep breath before he smiles. “I’m sorry, again, for what I did, and I hope that whatever happens for you, you find the happiness that you’re looking for.”

And with that, Louis’ leaves, turning around and making his way down the stairs to leave Zayn’s building, sparing a tiny wave over his shoulder before he disappears out of sight. 

Zayn closes the door, turning the locks closed while he rests his head against the cool metal surface. He waits a moment before he makes his way into the bedroom, dropping down onto the mattress and cocooning himself away from the world. After he lies here for hours, taking deep breaths and sleeping the daylight away, he’s going to call Leigh-Anne and Danny in vain hopes that they’ll take him out for the night. 

He knows that he’s making the right choice; Louis and his family will grow to forget about him as time goes on. It’s what’s best for everyone involved, even if Louis and his children don’t agree with his decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two more chapters.


	36. Chapter 36

Louis’ kids are happy to see him, all three of them trying to jump on him when he enters Nick’s house. He laughs, his children chipping away slightly at the aching, miserable, unhappy feeling swirling around inside of him. 

“Hold on a second,” Louis says, pushing them all away so he can drop down onto his knees, holding his arms open for all three of them to rush into his grasp. They do, Harry wrapping around his neck from the right side, Niall taking the left while Liam, poor little Liam has his face pressed into Louis’ chest, his arms wrapped around his torso, fingers digging into Louis’ ribs. 

“How was your trip, Daddy?” Harry asks, pulling away to smile at Louis, his elbow digging into Louis’ shoulder. 

Louis catches Nick’s eye, his expression inquisitive as he watches the hug. “It was good,” Louis says, smiling before he kisses Harry on the head, then Liam, and finally Niall, holding onto his eldest for a little while longer, not having been allowed to be near him for the last few weeks since Zayn left. “Missed you three, though. Did you miss me?”

“Yes,” they all groan in unison. 

“Uncle Nick burned breakfast,” Harry whispers, leaning down to cup his hand around Louis’ ear. “My waffles were black.”

“Uncle Nick has a really uncomfortable bed,” Niall says, turning around to smile at Nick for a second before he looks back at Louis. “Next time, he should come to our house.” 

“So we can watch him,” Harry adds. “He made Liam cry again.” 

“Again?” Louis questions, tilting his head up look at Nick, watching as his friend shrugs his shoulders dramatically. 

“I made him feel all better though, right Liam?” Liam nods his head, turning to look up at Nick and taking a step closer to Louis, reaching to hold onto Harry’s hand. 

Nick is standing behind Harry, holding up seven fingers behind his head and nodding vigorously at Louis. Louis shakes his head, fixing Nick with a look to make him stop before he turns his attention back to his children. “Are you boys all packed up and ready to go?” 

“Yes,” Liam replies, smiling at Louis. 

It’s quickly followed by Niall saying, “We didn’t pack anything, Harry dumped the bag out on the ground when we got here yesterday, it’s a mess,” he sighs out, shaking his head. 

“All right, well, go get your bag together, make sure you have everything, and then we’ll head home,” Louis says, standing up slowly and watching as his children scatter, all of them running off in different directions to grab their stuff, besides Liam. He walks towards the couch, climbing on top of it and making himself comfortable, resting his head on one of the pillows. 

“Okay, before the other nine finish getting that bag packed, you all right? You look miserable?” Nick says, frowning at him. 

Louis didn’t tell Nick that he went to see Zayn this morning; he chose to keep that bit of information to himself until he saw him. He had hoped in vain that something good would have come from the morning’s conversation, that maybe Zayn would have agreed to come home, even if he needed to spend another few weeks alone, getting his head on straight. He had foolishly hoped that Zayn wouldn’t reject him, but now that it’s happened, Louis just wants to get his kids and go home, he wants to focus on getting his life back, the life he had before he lied to Zayn. 

“I’ll be fine,” Louis says, because he figured out how to be fine when Eleanor left and he’ll figure out how to be fine now that Zayn is gone. 

“That doesn’t answer my question. I’m asking if you’re okay right now, in this very moment, are you all right?” Nick says, looking at Louis carefully. 

Louis takes a deep breath, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. “I went to see him this morning,” Louis starts, rubbing his hand against his arm, folding them over his chest as he talks to Nick. “He called me when I was in my hotel room last night and wanted to talk to me, he wanted to tell me his side of everything, us growing up, how his life was. He told me everything that I didn’t know about him, all the pieces between now and high school. And then he told me that he wants to move on with his life, he doesn’t want to try and be apart of our family properly. He wants to go back to life before he met us.”

“Oh Louis,” Nick sighs, staring at Louis sadly. “I’m sorry.” 

“We knew it would happen, Nick. It was a long shot. Even still, thanks for finding him for me. I needed to talk to him, and I did. And as it turns out, he had a few things that he wanted to tell me, so it worked out in some way.”

“I really thought he would come back,” Nick says, chewing on his bottom lip. He looks guilty and apologetic; like it’s his fault that Zayn rejected Louis. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” Louis says, shoving at Nick’s shoulder and laughing lightly, trying to lighten the mood in the room. “It’ll be all right. We’ll be fine.” Louis raises his eyebrows at Nick, nodding seriously. “Us Tomlinson’s have a knack for bouncing back from things. Just you wait and see.” 

~~~ 

Louis goes to sleep that night with a heavy heart.

He goes to sleep that night and tries to focus on getting his life back together, and not the empty expanse of the bed next to him. 

Louis goes to sleep that night tired and worn out, ready to start over. He ignores the ache inside of him, forcing himself to push it to the back of his mind. 

And when he wakes up in the morning with his eldest son back in his bed, and he chalks it down to a win instead of a lose; even though Zayn isn’t there. 

~~~ 

Two days following Zayn’s rejection, and Louis feels like he has a schedule set up. It’s the same that he used to do before Zayn. He wakes up with three little bodies stealing his blankets, and he leaves them in bed, waking them up after he gets breakfast ready, and then, while they eat, he makes lunch and gets book bags ready. Then it’s a mad rush to get everyone ready on time to drop Liam off at Mrs. Hamilton’s, and take Harry and Niall to school. 

He spends the day at work with Nick acting as though nothing ever happened and life’s the way it’s always been until he has to leave early to get Niall and Harry from school, not feeling comfortable asking Mrs. Hamilton to get them. 

Then it’s a night of making dinner and listening to three little boys tell him about their day until bath and bedtime, if Nick doesn’t come over, which he does, more often than not. 

It’s their routine, but it works for them. And it keeps Louis’ mind from wandering, because he’s always busy and constantly focusing his attention on his children, because without two parents, it’s all back on him, even if Nick is there, because there is constantly a child at his side telling him what dumb thing Nick did next. 

And it’s fine, he spent two years doing this before Zayn came around, and it’s just a matter of shaking the feeling that he wishes Zayn was there with him. It’s just a matter of falling back into the routine, not only for himself, but for his children too. 

Niall's talking to him again but he can still see the sadness etched on his face every now and then, when Niall’s doing his homework and Louis can’t figure out how to help him, or when he’s working on a drawing for art and there’s no one there to give him guidance. Louis tries, but it’s not the same. He knows it as well as Niall does. 

Harry's different. Louis sees his sadness when Louis is giving a cuddle to Niall or Liam and there's not enough for him to fit in comfortably like he wants to. He sees it in the way Harry frowns and sulks off. It's different with Harry than it is with everyone else, but Louis still sees it.

Liam's sadness is shown in the mornings when he's whisked away to Mrs. Hamilton's and the sad look he gives Louis when he drops him off every morning. It's not because Louis is leaving, but rather who he's stuck with.

They got a taste of something different with Zayn, and it's hard to move on from that, especially only after two days. But they're working on it; they're slowly falling back into their old routines.

But they're still a work in progress, and they’re fine. They really are, despite the sad looks, Louis can feel the family finally shifting back into what they were. 

No one has talked about Zayn in a while, and no one has uttered the word poppy either. And Louis hasn't spent nights lying in bed with his thumb over the number that Zayn called him from, itching to press call and see if he can change Zayn's mind to come back. He hasn't done that, at least not every night.

~~~ 

“Daddy why is Uncle Nick here?” Harry asks, peeking through the front window, watching as Nick walks from his car to the house. 

“He said he wanted to play with you,” Louis says, smiling at his son before he pulls the front door open. 

“It’s been three times this week,” Niall mumbles under his breath, smiling when Louis turns to look at him, worried he might get in trouble for mumbling under his breath.

“Do you have homework?” Louis asks. 

“I finished my math sheet at school, and all I have is one notebook sheet for English,” Niall says. “It’s for adjectives.”

“Well, how about you get that started?”

“Can I do it after dinner? Please?” Niall asks, whining as he looks up at Louis with bright blue eyes. “It won’t take me long.” 

“Daddy, please let Niall play with us,” Harry says, pushing the door closed for Louis after Nick walks in. “Uncle Nick, do you want Niall to play?” 

Nick glances up as he shrugs his coat off, looking at Louis with an eyebrow raised. Louis huffs and nods his head, admitting defeat. “All right, but I’m going to order a pizza. I don’t feel like cooking. I’m going to order it now, and then you can do your homework, then we’ll watch a movie before bath time. I don’t want Uncle Nick starting a game he can’t finish like he did two nights ago.”

“How was I supposed to know that a game called Monsters had rules and a start and finish? How do you expect me to know this?” Nick asks. 

“Never trust a small child, Grimshaw,” Louis says with a wink. 

“Uncle Nick, stop talking to Daddy. Lili, come on,” Harry says, grabbing Liam’s hand. 

“Okay,” Liam says, following behind Harry towards the staircase, grabbing the banister and walking up with Harry. 

“Uncle Nick,” Harry sings and Nick rolls his eyes, kicking off his shoes before he follows behind them. 

“You’re not doing my hair again, Harry,” Louis hears Nick mumble as he rushes up the stairs, picking up Harry and Liam to get them up the stairs faster. 

Niall rushes off after them and Louis shakes his head, pulling out his phone and dialing the number to the pizzeria a few blocks away, placing an order before he rushes upstairs, making it up there in time to see with one of his long sleeved shirts wrapped around his neck as a cape. 

~~~ 

Louis rushes downstairs at the sound of the doorbell, the noise bouncing around the house as he tosses the bit of laundry he was folding onto his bed. He grabs his wallet off his dresser, glancing at the alarm clock next to his bed to see the pizza is seven minutes later than they said it would be. He shakes his head as he makes his way down the stairs, counting the bills in his hand as he walks. 

“It’s twenty-seven something, right?” Louis asks, pulling the door open and holding the money out. “Holy shit.” His mouth drops open, stomach tightening and a deep breath spilling out of his lungs. 

Zayn’s standing there, three bags at his feet, another one his shoulder, the strap digging into the skin, pulling his shirt down a little, and he’s looking at Louis in confusion, glancing at the money in his hand. He looks nervous and unsure of himself, chewing on his bottom lip. He looks like he’s ready to flee, so Louis speaks before he can, noticing the way Zayn is bouncing on the balls of his feet, struggling internally with what he should be doing. 

“Why—Why—What are you doing here?” 

Zayn opens his mouth to speak but he’s interrupted the sound of shrill laughter coming from upstairs, Nick and the kids no doubt having fun. He glances behind Louis and takes a deep breath. “I don’t know,” he says, looking confused and concerned. “I don’t know.” 

Louis shoves the money back in his wallet, stuffing it in his pocket once more and stares at Zayn, completely in awe of him. “Okay,” Louis says slowly, running his fingers through his hair, brushing the ever-growing strands out of his face as he takes another deep breath. “Um, do you want to come inside?”

Zayn shakes his head, adjusting the bag on his shoulder while he stalls for time, glancing around. Louis follows his gaze over towards Mrs. Hamilton’s place, then towards the bikes on the porch and the pair of Harry’s shoes next to the door. He’s nervous, Louis can tell, and he resists the urge to reach out for him, instead he watches as Zayn stares down at the shoes, releasing a deep shaky breath. “I was bitter and frustrated and completely thrown off about everything. I really didn’t know what to do about anything. I’ve spent an entire week complaining about you to Leigh-Anne, just listing off everything wrong with you, because I thought that would help. I thought venting about everything bothering me would help. I mean, it’s supposed to, right?”

“Of course, yeah,” Louis says, still feeling a little stunned that Zayn is standing in front of him. 

Zayn nods his head, still looking down at the pair of shoes on the ground. He’s quiet for a few seconds, lost in his head before he speaks again. “Right, well. Anyway, there was a lot wrong with the things that you said, so much of it bothered me, you know? Mostly just the way you seemed to think that you were the only one who had a shit time growing up, or your life was the only one allowed to be horrible, because that’s not true. We’ve all got our own shit going on and our own pasts,” he breathes out, finally glancing up to look at Louis, staring behind him instead of right at him. “And then, of course, there was the way that you wouldn’t take no for an answer when I wanted to move on with my life, because you’re a stubborn ass and everything just has to be your way.”

“That’s not true,” Louis interrupts, shaking his head adamantly, wanting to argue the point. 

Zayn glares at him, fixing him with an unimpressed look so Louis makes a show of closing his mouth, locking it and throwing away the key. 

“Anyway, the thing that bothered me the most was the fact that you still, to this day, insist on referring to them as your kids,” Zayn says, groaning as he says it. “It’s the most infuriating thing in the entire world. You’re constantly placing ownership on them, babbling on about how they’re your kids, your sons, and your boys. It’s the worst thing about you, really. And for a week it scratched at my skin, gnawing away at me and driving me insane, and I spent an entire week ranting to Leigh-Anne about you, saying everything that was wrong with you, and when she asked why I was so angry all I could do was tell her how you called them yours. After everything you did to me, after all the lies, the, fuck, just everything. After all that, all I can do is think about the fact that you’re calling your kids your kids. It’s so fucked up.”

Louis’ mouth drops open as he stares at Zayn, confusion taking over his body. “I don’t understand,” he says, feeling slightly slow, like Zayn just told a joke and forgot to throw in the punch line. He’s lost, staring at Zayn and waiting for him to give him the answers. He doesn’t get it, but his stomach is clenching in anticipation. 

Zayn huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. His shoulders sag in defeat, and he looks resigned, like he’s done fight, but Louis doesn’t understand. He doesn’t get it. “I should hate you.” 

“Oh,” Louis says, taking a step back from the door, still gripping onto the handle tightly. 

“I should hate you. I do hate you, a little bit. Not as much as I should, which is… It’s not the way it’s supposed to go.” Zayn shrugs his shoulders, letting out a huff of breath. “But, despite being angry, my week of ranting to Leigh-Anne has taught me that, if nothing else, I want to give this a chance. Us, I mean, like, with our kids, which means that you can’t call them your kids anymore, especially, if you, you know, want me to come back.”

“I can do that,” Louis replies, his eyes wide and mouth still hanging open. “But I thought that you—I thought that, um.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to stop his head from spinning. “What do you mean come back? I thought, holy shit. I thought you were done with me.”

Zayn shrugs his shoulders again, and he looks just as lost and confused as Louis feels. “Since my break up with Leigh-Anne, since my family decided they didn’t want to see me anymore, and since I moved into that apartment by myself, I’ve been alone. I’ve been lonely and a little bit miserable, but I wasn’t like that here. I know that you brought me here on a lie, and that part still bothers me, still hurts me, but the more I thought about it this week, the more I realized that you can’t fake interactions like the ones we had, and the ones I had with Harry, Niall and Liam. It was a lie, the foundation of it all, but everything else was real. 

“I don’t know if this is the right decision, and I know that it’s too soon, but these past few weeks have been hell for me, in more ways than one, and I have to solve my own problems, and if I want to make my life better then I have to do something about it, so I’m here. I’m here,” Zayn says, sighing as he takes a deep breath. “I really miss your kids.”

Louis stares at him, waiting again to see if there is a punch line, if Zayn is going to break out into a smile and tell him that he’s kidding. It feels like a ploy, a desperate attempt on Zayn’s end to hurt Louis in the way he hurt him. And it could work, it has the potential to destroy Louis if he finds out that Zayn doesn’t want anything to do with him, and his offer to come back is a hoax. But looking at Zayn, taking in the way he’s chewing on his bottom lip, and the way he’s staring at Louis with wide, hopeful hazel eyes, chipping away at the knot inside of Louis, he knows that it’s not a game. 

Louis breaks out in a smile slowly, trying not to look too hopeful when he says, “You mean our kids, right?”

“Yeah, our kids. I really miss our kids.”

“They’re upstairs,” Louis says, pointing over his shoulder and pulling the door open a little wider. “You can come in, you know, if you want. Obviously.” 

“In a second, first you need to understand that there are going to be a few conditions and things that I want from you if I’m going to stick around.”

“Anything,” Louis says as he tightens his grip on the doorknob, bracing himself for what’s to come. If he were Zayn, he’d come up with ideas nearly possible to achieve. Louis should be forced to work for this, he should. He feels like it’s being handed to him, like he didn’t beg enough, or give Zayn the world enough, but he’s willing to do anything that Zayn asks of him, anything in the entire world. 

“Don’t agree before you’ve heard it.”

“Right,” Louis says with a nod. “What are your conditions?” 

“Okay, um, these might be dumb, but they’re important to me,” Zayn says, and Louis nods his head immediately, letting Zayn know that he understands. Zayn takes a deep breathing, nodding his own head. “You can’t lie to me again. I can handle little lies, like ‘no, I didn’t hide your birthday present in the closet.’ Or, ‘I didn’t forget our anniversary’ even though you’re planning something big. I can deal with those, those don’t affect anyone’s life, but you’re not going to lie to me on a scale that could damage me. I can’t take it again, Louis. I can’t. I promise to never lie in that way to you, but you have to promise the same to me.” 

“I promise,” Louis says immediately, without even having to think about it, because after lying to Zayn about who he was and almost losing him, he’s confident that he’s learned his lesson. 

“You can’t hold what I’ve done in the past against me again. Our relationship will never progress and grow if you keep doing that. I’m not the same person that I was when I was seventeen. I don’t want to hurt you, and I’m sorry that I did.”

“I won’t. I promise. I forgave you a while ago, and I told you before, you’re the person that I thought you were. You’re different, and I’m so fucking sorry for not understanding that before. I’m so sorry. It was childish of me, and I can promise that it’s all water under the bridge. It’s done. It’s forgotten about.”

“All right, good,” Zayn says, nodding his head. “Um, so this next one, it’s kind of the most important to me. But, um, those children, the one’s upstairs that I’m pretending I can’t hear laughing, because I really want to see them, but those children will never again be considered yours and yours alone. They’re ours, and I don’t want to hear ‘my’ when it comes to them. I don’t care how much time I’ve missed with them, and how technically, biologically they’re yours, but they’re mine, too. I’m not going to tolerate you throwing that in my face every time something goes wrong between us.”

“Zayn,” Louis breathes with a sigh. “I would never.” He won’t, not anymore. Before he wasn’t comfortable with Zayn, before he wasn’t in love with him, and Zayn wasn’t a vital part of his life. Before he thought that he had nothing to lose, but now he knows differently, and he’s not going to risk losing it for anything.

“We’ll see about that,” Zayn says, huffing out a laugh. 

“I will. I promise,” Louis says, trying to best to sound convincing. He can do it; he knows that he can, especially if it means that Zayn will stay. “Is that it? Is that all you want?”

“No,” Zayn says, shaking his head slowly. “In the future, you’re going to marry me properly and I’m going to adopt the boys properly. We’re going to do this the right way.”

It knocks the air out of Louis’ lungs, forcing him to grip the door again for support as he nods his head in confirmation. “If that’s what you want. I mean, if you’re sure, then I will.” He can already imagine how excited the boys will be about that, the thought makes his insides flutter, the idea of them being a properly family, one that’s true, one where the other parent has made a conscious choice to be there instead of being forced. 

“Good,” Zayn says, nodding his head. “That’s all I’ve got. I tried to think of more, but that’s it. No, actually, I forgot to mention that you’re sleeping on the couch, because I’m not ready to get completely back to the way things were. Plus, isn’t that how you’re supposed to punish your husband?”

Zayn’s smiling at him, and Louis feels like he could pass out. He’s so overwhelmed, so happy, and so in love with the boy across from him. 

~~~ 

The pizza comes twenty minutes after Zayn arrived, almost thirty minutes late and Louis is so overcome with joy about having Zayn back that he doesn’t say anything to the delivery boy, instead he generously tips him and goes inside, watching as Zayn gathers the plates and sets them down on the table. 

“I have to call them down here now, you know that right?” Louis says, setting the boxes down on the counter. “They’re probably wondering why I’ve been down here for so long, if they’ve even noticed I’m down here.” 

“I know,” Zayn says, setting the last plate down on the table. He takes a deep breath and looks up slowly, trying to hide his nerves when he smiles at Louis. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Okay,” Louis says, nodding his head. He walks into the living room, shouting up the stairs for everyone to come down and eat. He hears a chorus of ‘okay’s’ along with the sound of feet moving around upstairs before he turns back around to look at Zayn. 

“Could you go stand over there?” Zayn asks, biting on his bottom lip. “I don’t want Liam to try and hide behind the couch.”

Louis laughs, shaking his head. “I’ll wait here, I’ll grab him,” he says, confident that he can stop his son from hiding behind the furniture. And luckily enough, when he glances up the staircase Nick has Liam in his arms, his youngest son staring at him intently as they make their way downstairs. 

It’s Harry who spots Zayn first, letting out a tiny gasp before he breaks out into a smile, rushing down the stairs as fast as he can, nearly falling into Louis when he reaches the last one. 

“Poppy, you’re here,” Harry shouts before he jumps off the last stairs, rushing across the room to throw himself onto Zayn, the older boy already knelt down on the ground to catch him, holding him close. 

Louis takes Liam away from Nick, smiling widely at his best friend. Niall is standing behind him, not looking as happy as Louis would have expected. He looks cautious, scared even, and Louis grabs his hand and pulls him closer and out from behind Nick. 

“Well,” Nick says, smirking as he looks at the two of them. “I see the wife is back, so I’m going to head home. Louis, I’ll expect every detail tomorrow at work.” Nick fixes him with a firm glare to let Louis know that he’s serious before he grabs his jacket and disappears out of the house. 

“Poppy, where did you go?” Harry asks, and Louis turns around to watch the exchange with baited breath, wondering how Zayn will explain this. 

“Poppy had to do some stuff,” Zayn says, brushing his fingers through Harry’s curls. “It’s a really long, boring, grown-up story, but I want you to know that it’s all taken care of, and now I can be here with you. We can even cuddle tonight, if you want.” 

“I love to cuddle,” Harry says, nodding his head seriously. He turns around looking at Liam, Louis and Niall. “Liam, do you want to cuddle with us?”

Liam turns his head, shoving it into Louis’ neck, hiding away from everyone else in the room. “Daddy,” he whispers into Louis’ neck, wrapping his arms around him. 

“What’s wrong, Li?” Louis asks, rubbing Liam’s back gently, letting go of Niall’s hand to support his youngest son properly. 

“Why’s Poppy here?” Liam asks, the words spoken into Louis’ skin, and he almost misses them, and he would have if it weren’t for Liam speaking them just below his ear. 

“Do you think you can be a big boy and ask him yourself?” Louis asks, bouncing Liam a little, trying to encourage him to look up instead of shoving his face harder into Louis’ neck. 

“No,” Liam whines, gripping onto Louis tighter than before. 

“I can be a big boy,” Harry says, pulling away from Zayn to look at Louis. “Daddy, I can.” 

“I know you can, baby, but I was talking to Liam. You finish talking to Poppy,” Louis says, shooting Zayn an apologetic look before he turns his back on him, kneeling down on the ground and forcing Liam to look at him. “Li, why are you scared, buddy?” 

“He left,” Niall hisses out, staring at Louis. 

“He did,” Louis says, nodding his head in agreement. “But that was my fault. I screwed up, Niall. And he’s back now, isn’t that what you wanted?” 

“He’s like mom,” Niall says, looking intently at Louis. Louis releases a deep sigh and shakes his head, turning away from Niall to look at Liam. 

“You have nothing to be scared of, okay? Harry’s over there, he’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you. And you love Poppy, right?” Liam nods his head quickly, glancing behind Louis quickly. “All right, well, you go over there and talk to him.” 

Liam looks at him for a moment, and with Louis gently nudging him in the back he scampers off, rushing over towards Harry’s side, much to the joy of the brunette little boy. He doesn’t spare them another glance before he turns back to Niall, pulling himself up to sit on the bottom stair, forcing his eldest to stand in front of him. 

“What’s going on?” He asks, studying Niall carefully. “Do you not want him here? If you don’t want him here then you have to tell me now, because Harry, Liam and Poppy all have their hearts set on him staying, but if you’re not comfortable, then tell me.” 

“He’s like mom. He left,” Niall says, looking at Louis carefully, hoping his father gets it. “If he leaves again then he’s not coming back.”

“Mom wanted to leave, Niall. It was her choice and no one was to blame for that but her. Poppy didn’t want to leave, he felt like he had to, because of something I did. It’s my fault, Niall, and just because Mom left doesn’t meant that Poppy will,” Louis explains, running his knuckles along Niall’s arm. 

“I don’t plan on leaving.”

Louis glances up to see Zayn standing behind them, smiling shyly at Louis and the back of Niall’s head, the blonde refusing to turn around to look at Zayn. 

“Where’s Liam?” Louis asks, glancing behind Zayn. 

“He managed to give me a hug before Harry grabbed his hand and dragged him to the table. They’re currently invading the pizza boxes. It works out, because I think there’s someone that I need to talk to more, if you’ll let me,” Zayn says, staring at Niall carefully. 

Niall looks at Louis and Louis shrugs his shoulders. “Do you want me to stay or go?” 

“You can go,” he says quietly, releasing a deep breath. Louis smiles at him before he stands up, kissing the top of Niall’s head before he heads towards the kitchen. 

As he’s walking away he hears Zayn say, “I know you’re upset with me, and I know that I broke your promise to never leave, and I should never promise it again, but I’m not leaving again.” 

Louis busies himself with cutting up pizza for Harry and Liam, both of whom were trying their best to use their hands to do it themselves, their fingers covered in tomato sauce, Harry happily licking it off as he watches Louis get a knife to begin cutting. He spares a glance towards Niall and Zayn, curiosity getting the best of them and sees the exact moment that Niall wraps Zayn in a hug. 

A heavy weight settles inside of Louis, anchoring him down, and it feels like he’s finally able to breathe. He knows better than anyone that he doesn’t deserve this second chance, and that Zayn should have never forgiven him or walked back into his home, but he also knows, far greater than anyone else, that he’s not going to fuck it up. Not this time, because his family is complete, finally, and this time he knows what he has at stake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is the last.


	37. Chapter 37

Three months later, and not much has changed in the Tomlinson household, or Zayn thinks any way. 

There are, of course, the superficial changes, like how Zayn reorganized the entire kitchen to work in a way that makes sense for him. Emptying all of the cabinets out on the floor and the table and putting it back together again. He never figured out the kitchen when he didn’t have a memory, and now that he’s got one, he’s going to know how to function the room he makes all the family meals in. 

They’ve also redecorated, and by redecorating he means that they’ve finally put up photographs with Zayn in them around the house, and one with Louis, and ones of them together without the kids. It’s not much, but it helps remind Zayn this is home. 

Another change, one that only matters for one person in the house, is the reorganization of the furniture so that Liam can no longer hide from them, instead he has to hide in the open when he’s upset about something or scared, an action that’s helped Liam express his feelings more. He’s not like Harry in that sense, he’ll never express his emotions and every thought as freely as his older brother, but he no longer hides them from away and makes it impossible for Zayn and Louis to help him without working their ass off to accomplish it. 

Besides those, the house is the same. It’s the same smell as it’s always been, the same toys littering the floor. The same book bags and shoes piled up next to the door. 

It’s the same three little boys running wild throughout the house, giving it the bright glow that it’s always had, making the house as amazing as it is. 

Since his memory came back and he’s rejoined the family, Zayn knows that it’s the same curly haired boy clamping onto his leg in the mornings while he makes breakfast, mumbling about how happy he is and what a good morning it is. It’s the same Harry that’s always demanding cuddles. 

And it’s the same blond that’s always begged him to help with his homework. It’s the same Niall as always, the same Niall that makes up drawing homework assignments so he can con Zayn into drawing something for him. 

It’s still the same little boy that he gets to spend every day with, running errands and coloring pictures, and coming up with ideas for dinner that don’t involved spaghetti. It’s the same Liam that’s always been curled up at his side in the mornings, waking him up in the middle of the night when Harry drags him into his and Louis’ bed. 

And lastly, it’s the same Louis that he gets to wake up to every morning. The same blue eyes and warm smile that greets him first thing in the morning before they tuck away into the bathroom so they can shower together, one of their only moments alone. 

Everything is the same and it settles a feeling of warmth inside of Zayn, settling his nerves and making him feel at ease. 

It’s home, and there hasn’t been a second of time where Zayn wonders if he made the right decision by coming back. Not one. 

~~~ 

Zayn works quickly, moving around the kitchen with a practiced ease that he’s accomplished over the last year. 

It’s a Saturday and Zayn’s home alone with the kids, working to finish lunch while he listens to Harry in the living room sing songs to Liam while Niall cheers him on, mostly with laughter. 

Louis had to go to an appointment with their lawyer, finalizing the process of getting Eleanor’s rights for the children taken away so that Zayn can finally adopt them. It wasn’t a difficult task, one discussion with a judge about how she hasn’t been seen or heard from in years, their story confirmed by the reports they took from the kids, Liam and Harry both looking confused and saying they don’t have a mommy. Niall had given them more information, frowning and saying that he doesn’t know where she is anymore. 

But it’s still a process, one that’s going to be completed after this meeting where Louis to turn in the paperwork that they had to sign to remove Eleanor’s rights and get the approval for the adoption, and then listening to the lawyer ramble on about the adoption process. Zayn should have gone, it’s him that’s doing the adopting after all, but he couldn’t sit through another four hour long discussion with their mouthy lawyer about the legal process. It’s too much for him. He hates it, even if it is giving him everything that he wants. 

“Boys, get in here,” Zayn shouts, finishing the final sandwich. It’s not the greatest lunch he’s ever made, but whatever. The boys won’t complain. 

“Poppy, I was singing to Liam,” Harry states as soon as he enters the room, like Zayn couldn’t hear him. “Did you hear?” 

“I did,” Zayn says, picking up Liam and setting him down in his chair. “You sounded beautiful, baby.” He leans down and presses a quick kiss to Harry’s forehead before he sets out plates, setting one down in front of each of them. 

“Where’s Daddy?” Liam asks, his mouth full of bread and cheese and meat, his words mumbled together. 

“Daddy won’t get back until dinner time, he had to go do something very important, remember? Daddy’s going to talk to a man about making me your official Poppy, so he’ll be back later,” Zayn says. 

“I do, I remember,” Harry says, nodding his head. “He told me before he left.” 

“He told everyone,” Niall says before he takes a bite of sandwich, and Zayn’s happy one of his sons can wait. 

The oven dings and Zayn rushes over quickly to check on the cake, nodding in satisfaction as he pulls it out carefully, kicking the oven door closed. 

“Poppy, it smells like chocolate. Did you make me a treat?” Harry asks and Zayn glances up to see that he’s shifted around so he’s sitting on his knees, his sandwich held in his hand as he smiles at Zayn. “I’ve been a good boy.” 

“We’re going to eat it after dinner. I made it for a very special occasion,” Zayn states, shutting off the oven and grabbing his own lunch before he sits down at the table with the boys. 

“It’s not my birthday,” Harry says, frowning. 

“It’s no one’s birthday,” Niall counters, sneaking a chip off Zayn’s plate, smiling at him when Zayn turns to look at him. “What’s so special that we get to eat cake? We usually only have pudding if we’re good.”

“I’m good boy,” Liam says, dragging his finger across the table as he looks up at Zayn, waiting for Zayn to reassure him that he is, in fact, a good boy, which Zayn does. 

“You’re the best boy, one of my best three boys,” he says, smiling at Liam, allowing his eyes to crinkle when Liam smiles back brightly, nodding his head and taking another big bite of his food. 

“Poppy, what’s the special thing?” Niall asks, poking Zayn in the side. 

“Well,” Zayn says carefully, swallowing the bit of food in his mouth. “I want to do something special for Daddy, and I need your help.”

“Are you going to ask Daddy to marry you?” Harry asks, smiling up at Zayn. It’s the same question he asked months ago, but this time Zayn doesn’t glance down at him in confusion, instead he feels his cheeks stain pink. 

“You are,” Niall shouts, throwing his fist in the air. “You want to marry dad.” 

“My daddy and poppy are getting married,” Harry shouts, clapping wildly. 

Liam is staring at everyone with wide eyes, not understanding what’s happening. 

“All right, all right,” Zayn says, reaching over to rub Liam’s back. “You’re excited about it, I understand, but come on, let’s help me think of ideas. Okay? How should I ask him?” 

“Just ask,” Liam suggests, still looking confused about what’s happening. 

“That’s a good idea,” Zayn agrees, nodding his head. “Thank you, Liam.” 

Liam smiles, nodding his head and going back to his lunch. 

“Poppy, what’s married?” Harry asks and Zayn has to resist the urge to roll his eyes, because Harry’s been the one mentioning this idea, but leave it up to him to not understand what it means. 

“It means that your daddy will be my husband, and I’ll officially be in the family. It means that I can never leave.” Zayn doesn’t mention that marriage isn’t always permanent. Harry doesn’t need to know the sour parts of it, or the fact that marriage doesn’t mean forever. Zayn only wants Harry to focus on the details that pertain to him, because Zayn never intends on leaving, so it’s the truth for him, but Harry still looks a little confused. “Do you remember at the end of Cinderella when they’re running out of the castle and she’s wearing a pretty white dress and they ride off on a carriage?” 

“Yeah,” Harry says, nodding his head carefully. 

“That’s marriage.”

“Oh,” Harry says, his mouth dropping open and his eyes shining with some kind of emotion that Zayn can’t put his finger on. “How are you gonna do that?” 

“I don’t know,” Zayn mutters. “That’s why I’m asking you.” 

“I think you should ask him by, um, drawing him a picture,” Niall suggests. 

“With flowers,” Harry adds on, nodding his head and giving Zayn a serious look. “Mrs. Hamilton has some.” 

“Yes, well, I don’t think we should ruin Mrs. Hamilton’s flowers more than we already have.” 

“It’s okay, they’ll be dead soon. We can take them,” Niall says, shrugging his shoulders. “So, we’ll get Harry’s flower’s and we can do my drawing idea and then you can just ask him, like Liam said.”

“All right, we can do that,” Zayn agrees, thinking that he has a good idea on how he’s going to ask Louis. 

~~~ 

Unlike the romantic dinner that Zayn planned months ago, he doesn’t let the kids go all out this time. Instead, he gives them permission to ask Mrs. Hamilton if they can take flowers from her garden before they arrange them in a vase on the table, the only decoration for the night. It’s not something that’ll tip Louis off in any direction, because, unfortunately for Mrs. Hamilton, Harry seems to always be picking flowers out of her garden and bringing them home. Zayn wonders when the old woman will show up on their doorstep to yell at them, but he thinks that she doesn’t mind as long as Harry always returns when she’s gardening to help her. 

And while Zayn finished icing the cake and decorating to the boys’ satisfaction, Niall, Harry and Liam sat at the kitchen table and drew on their own white sheet of paper that Zayn had written on in thick, black decorative letters. 

It was Niall’s idea for what to put on them, a simple message that reads: let’s get married. 

It’s not the one that Zayn wanted to put, especially since these are coming from the kids and he never imagined asking Louis in a way that wasn’t ‘will you marry me?’ But Harry had said it was beautiful and Liam said that he liked it, so who is Zayn to tell them no?

“Who can tell me the plan?” Zayn asks, hand resting on the back of Liam’s chair. “When Daddy gets home, what do we do?” 

“We give him our papers,” Harry answers quickly. “And then we eat the cake.”

“I like cake,” Liam offers, turning around in his seat to look at Zayn. 

Zayn hears the key turning in the lock and he curses, running a hand through his hair. “Line up over there, holding your signs up, okay? I’m going to go stop Daddy from coming in until you’re ready.”

Zayn rushes across the room, taking long strides and pushing the door shut when Louis gets it open. He opens it back up immediately, smiling at Louis through the crack in the door. “You’re back early, how was the lawyers office?” Zayn asks, stepping outside. 

“Fine,” Louis says, cocking an eyebrow at Zayn. “Why aren’t we allowed in the house?” 

“We are, I just don’t think the boys need to hear about legal matters. But everything went okay? All the paper work was signed correctly, right? We’re ready to take the next step?” 

“Yeah,” Louis says, nodding his head. “We have to wait six months, but the termination of Eleanor’s rights have gone through, or well, it will soon enough, but through signing that and the adoption papers, which are being filed, by the way, we have six months until our hearing and then it’s pretty much done with. And then, you will officially have custody of the boys.” 

Zayn smiles, biting on his bottom lip before he steps forward to kiss Louis, both of his hands on either side of Louis’ face. It’s hardly a kiss, they’re both smiling too much for it to be anything other than them pressing their lips together, but it’s enough. 

“Okay,” Louis says, pulling away. “Let’s go in before the boys coming rushing outside.” 

Louis side steps Zayn and pushes the door open, he can hear the sound of Harry’s giggle wafting through the air. He takes a deep breath before follows Louis inside, trying to settle his nerves. 

He knows that Louis will say yes, they’ve talked about getting married, just going to the courthouse with the boys, Nick, Danny and Leigh-Anne, nothing special. That’s still how Zayn wants to do it, but it doesn’t feel right getting married to Louis without asking him properly. 

Zayn steps into the house and sees Louis standing a few feet from the kids, staring at them with his mouth wide open. He shuts the door quietly, clearing his throat to get Louis’ attention.

It takes a minute, but Louis finally turns around and says, “What’s going on?” 

“You’re going to get married,” Niall explains before Zayn has a chance, stepping in front of Louis. “But Poppy has to ask first.” 

Zayn smiles and shrugs his shoulders. “So? What do you say?” 

“Daddy, um, married means like Cinderella,” Harry says, handing Liam his paper. “I learned that.”

“Yes,” Louis says before anyone else can cut him off and Zayn smiles, because he was never worried about what Louis’ answer would be, just his reaction to the proposal, if you can call it that. 

“Daddy, are you Prince Charming or Cinderella?” Harry asks. 

“He’s Prince Charming,” Zayn answers, stepping forward and taking the drawings away from Liam, who has somehow gotten a hold of his, Harry’s and Niall’s. 

“Poppy, want the cake,” Liam says, looking up at Zayn. 

“All right, we need to eat dinner, but because it’s a very special day, we’re going to eat the cake first. So, go wash your hands and then sit down at the table. We’ll be in there in one second,” Zayn instructs, patting Liam on the back, gently guiding him towards Harry and Niall. 

He waits for them to run off and glances up to see Louis smiling at him. “I’m Prince Charming, huh? Is it because I brought you into a better life?” Louis asks and Zayn shakes his head, reaching forward and poking Louis in the cheek. 

“That’s for me to know and for you to never ever find out,” Zayn replies, smiling before he heads towards the kitchen, trying not to groan in frustration when he sees that Harry has pulled a chair up to the counter and is licking chocolate icing off his finger, the substance only getting there because he keeps swiping his finger across the cake. 

~~~ 

After the kids are asleep, well into the night, Louis and Zayn are putting fresh sheets on their bed, trying to prepare for when the boys sneak into their room in the middle of the night. They finish, crawling underneath the blankets and cuddling up in the center of the bed, fresh change of clothes on, lights off, and holding each other close. 

“Can feel you thinking,” Zayn murmurs, rubbing his nose against Louis’ throat before he presses a kiss to the skin there. 

“Sorry,” Louis replies back, sighing deeply. 

Zayn pulls away, far enough that he’s able to get a good look at Louis’ face. “What’s going on?” 

“Are you happy you came back?” Louis asks, his grip tightening around Zayn’s waist as he looks into his eyes. 

Zayn hums, flicking a stray strand of hair out of Louis’ eyes and smiling at him softly. “I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time,” Zayn confirms, tracing Louis’ cheekbones with his fingers. “I wouldn’t have come back if I thought that I was going to regret it. Not when there are children involved. This is where I want to be.” 

“Just making sure,” Louis replies, leaning forward to kiss Zayn. “Just wanted to make sure that you’re happy here.” 

“Wouldn’t have asked you to marry me, Prince Charming.”

Louis groans, pulling away from Zayn slightly to lie back on his pillows, arm thrown over his eyes. “You said that but you’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” 

“It’s a cute nickname. It made Harry happy, anyway.” 

“I don't mind it, but you can’t say it at the wedding,” Louis says, pulling his arm off his face to look at Zayn. “You have to say Louis, that’s my only rule.” 

“I can do that,” Zayn replies. “Let’s kiss on it.” He leans forward and kisses Louis softly, pulling away slightly to say, “Love you.”

“I love you, too, Zayn,” Louis says before he’s kissing Zayn again. 

They kiss in the dark; unsure of how much time passes between them, until they hear, “Liam, let’s wake up, Niall, okay?”

“They boys are on their way in,” Louis whispers into the darkness of their room. “Should pretend to be asleep?” 

“No. I don’t want Harry to step on my ribs again,” Zayn murmurs. 

It’s another minute before they hear the boys back into the hallway, and Zayn rolls over when their bedroom door opens, pulling away from Louis to see all three of their children shuffling in, sleep riddled. Zayn pulls the blankets back, reaching out to pull Liam up to lie down next to him. Niall helps Harry on the bed, who crawls in between Louis and Zayn, leaving Niall to take up Louis’ other side. 

It’s crammed, like it always is, but Zayn’s time away was spent curled up with four pillows surrounding him, and he finds that it’s much better with knees and elbows poking him, pushing at him and fighting for the blankets all night. 

And Zayn’s reminded that everything is the same, a feeling of comfort floating through him as he thinks about the life he didn’t ask for, turned into the life he couldn’t imagine not having.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, this story is over. I'm incredibly sad about this book ending, I'm going to miss writing this universe and these characters. Thank you to all of you for your support and encouragement along the way, thank you to everyone who has stuck through until the end, no matter when you started reading. I appreciate it, more than you can know. 
> 
> Again, thank you for reading and, hopefully, enjoying this story as it took a ridiculously long time to complete. <3<3
> 
> Here's my [tumblr](http://www.alnimawrites.tumblr.com) if you want to yell at me about this or anything :).

**Author's Note:**

> 2017 Warning Update: Zayn is in an accident and suffers from amnesia. He and Louis have a past where Zayn used to bully Louis, in an incident described as Zayn and other members of the football team hiding Louis' clothes in the locker room and passing around the picture they took of him. Louis hasn't ever really let go of this incident, so in an attempt to get revenge he uses Zayn's amnesia to his advantage and brings him back to his house where he lies to him and says that they have been married and that his kids are their kids. Zayn stays at home and takes care of the kids while Louis works, does cleaning and cooking, etc. A romantic and sexual relationship is developed while Zayn has amnesia and is being lied to, so he is not actually giving proper consent for what they are doing because of the deception surrounding their relationship and his life. This is not consensual between them, definitely not on Zayn's part, so please think about this and make the right decision for yourself. Your mental health is so much more important than fic and I am very sorry it took me so long to add this tag. 
> 
> Now, for the Stockholm syndrome elements, I added that because Zayn is brought into Louis' house while suffering from amnesia and because of the non-consensual romantic and sexual relationship that ensues, I believe that his feelings beyond where he finds out the truth and takes Louis back, can be seen in this light. So again, please look after yourself. I value you more than this fic, and once again, I am so sorry it took me so long to add this tag. 
> 
> Again, because I can't say it enough: I am really sorry that it took me years to add this warning. I wrote this fic so long ago, and with most of my older fics, I no longer pay them any attention because I'm not happy with my skill level at the time of writing them, so I never re-visit them. I wish that I would have now, so I could have examined things more closely to ensure that I was adding the proper warnings that I should have. I will be doing that with my other fics as soon as this is posted. At this time, I will not be deleting the fic, as I don't want to run away from my mistakes.
> 
> Again, I am truly sorry. If you have any other questions or concerns about these warnings, please drop a comment and I would be happy to clarify for you!


End file.
